


Unexpected

by Harrishawksuperiour



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aggression, Arkanis, Betrayal, Boredom, Childbirth, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cruelty, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Double Agents, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Forced Marriage, Grief/Mourning, Hate, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Hux Backstory, Hux Family, Hux's Name Is Not Armitage, In-Laws, Isolation, Jealousy, Knifeplay, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Loneliness, Love Bites, Love Sick Hux, Love/Hate, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Millicent Exists But Not As She Does In Canon, Mind Games, Miscarriage, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Near Death, Obsession, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Parenthood, Possessive Behavior, Post-Birth Sex, Power Struggle, Pregnancy, Protective Hux, Protective Siblings, Revenge, Seduction, Sexual Slavery, Shameless Smut, Siblings, Smut, Table Sex, Twins, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Hate, Unrequited Love, Vornskr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 79,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harrishawksuperiour/pseuds/Harrishawksuperiour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thought he was dead. She hoped he was dead. She heard about the explosion and celebrated too early. But when he turns up on her doorstep and tries to take over once again, Kendra is not going down without a fight. The power struggle is real and all matter of unexpected things start to happen after Starkiller is no more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unwelcome

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this at 2 in the morning. Not sure why. It probably seemed like a good idea at the time. It's probably terrible but maybe it's no harm for Hux to be put in his place every now and then. M rating, smut later. Enjoy! Or don't, I don't mind. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Brendol Hux lands on his home planet of Arkanis with an injured Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma after Starkiller Base is destroyed. His wife isn't pleased.

Kendra stormed one of the many corridors of her home. The dominant clipping of low heeled shoes was somewhat muffled under the long dress as they pounded the marble floor between her bedroom and the entrance hall.

 

 _ **"What the hell is going on?!"**_ She barked at the staff, her accent mostly Coruscantesque but with a vicious twist. She wasn't usually this irritable; in fact it had been a long time since she was this angry.

"They… They just touched down, madam. They gave no warning, no transmissions, nothing." One of her braver staff chimed in nervously; uncertain of the reception such information would receive. Merely a frustrated shriek. "What do you want us to do, madam? We… We can't refuse them…."

"Do what they ask." She advised them, the aggression still fresh in her tone. "I will deal with _him_ myself." How or where she was going to do this, she didn't know but she could only assume he'd come in the front door. She'd attack him from there.

Kendra had always been undeniably pretty. As she got older, she became beautiful and striking. Bright blue eyes, raven locks and somewhat sallow skin, she was something to behold; all wrapped up in a light, flowy light green dress. To reflect the incoming summer weather due to them (not that would be much). But she was wasted in an arranged marriage, a forced marriage.

"He's supposed to be dead!" Kendra seethed to herself, unable to believe that this had been robbed from her. That that weasel had managed to survive. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised; he was quite exceptional where danger was concerned. But still, she'd hoped she'd made an escape. It seemed the only one to escape was him. Years she'd been trapped and when she heard about the explosion, she had wrongly assumed she was free to make what she wanted with the rest of her life as a widow. It was not to be.

 

She waited, her irritation growing into full blown monstrous anger with every passing second. Did she even remember what he looked like? She had a vague idea and would recognize him but she couldn't remember the finer details of his face. How long had it been? A year? Two? Then she realized: She didn't care. He shouldn't have been coming back at all. Kendra decided to watch from the shadows of the landing overlooking the entrance hall.

 

She could assess the situation from a careful distance and proceed from there. Needless to say, he was bigger and stronger than her; he could overpower her in a second. The stressed groaning of the front doors being pushed open dragged her from her train of thought and she looked down over the banister. There he was. Unharmed. A chrome Stormtrooper carried a black, mangled mess which she assumed to be Kylo Ren while he sauntered in behind them, looking around to see the changes she had made in his absence. The answer was maximum and he hated it.

 

"You're supposed to be dead." Came the venom he knew so well from above. He saw that beautiful, disdained face looking down on him from the banister and felt a lick of satisfaction at her obvious disappointment.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Kendra."

"What did I do to deserve this?!" She barked in annoyance as she started to stride along the landing towards the stairs to find him waiting for her at the bottom of it. Yes, she couldn't mistake that face now. Pale and pasty, those cruel icy blue eyes and that red hair that he always had perfectly in place. That son of a bitch, she hated him. He was the reason for the way she was, she knew it.

"How hard is it to die, Brendol?! Honestly, you can't even do that right!" The General had to laugh though it was cold and ruthless with a smirk to match.

"I do it purely to get under your skin, my darling."

"I'm starting to believe so. And call me that again and we're going to have problems!" She was only a few steps away from him now but with her tiny stature against his significantly larger one; they were more or less face to face. She wasn't a typical military wife. He knew that from the start. She wasn't submissive or meek and controllable. She was a hurricane. She was essentially a wild animal in a high born woman's clothing.

 

How he'd gotten to marry her in the first place, he didn't know. How he'd made it through the wedding night alive, he still didn't know. He'd been convinced there was a knife under her pillow during their consummation and it was the only time she'd allowed him to touch her. He was fine with that. He was expected back on the Finalizer a few days after the wedding where he could focus and be far away from her foul temper.

"Find a room for Ren, get a medic up there." He instructed one of Kendra's staff who scurried to the assignment, leading Phasma up the stairs past them with Kylo Ren still in her arms. Hux turned back to his wife. It was expected of him to marry. It looked good for a military man to have grounding in his personal life; a beautiful wife was the first step. Sons were the next step but he doubted that would happen. Although Kendra was of Republican stock, her father had been a First Order sympathizer.

He donated plenty of money, weapons, advice and information as a dowry and all had been useful. Upon seeing Kendra for the first time, he had been intrigued and so agreed to the arrangement. Then he actually met her and regretted the decision but there was no backing out. They'd despised each other ever since. Still, he could always brag about the stunning wife he kept back at a villa on Arkanis, not far from the Academy.

 

Often, he found her ungrateful. Spoiled. Bratty. Or maybe she was just that way to punish him, he didn't know.

"I think your forget who pays for everything, Kendra." He reminded her, his voice carrying as she started back up the stairs with disgust written across her face. "Your clothes, your staff, and all these vile changes you make when I'm not around?"

"Oh, I don't know, my dowry maybe?" She replied without missing a beat and turning on her heel to face him again. "I know exactly what he gave you, Brendol. I'm not a fool." He sometimes forgot she was more intelligent than he gave her credit for. Before he realized it, she was walking away from him again.

"Kendra!"

"If you'll excuse me, I have other less painful things to do than stand here talking to you." The female responded casually, hips swaying as she continued back up the steps. She had nothing else to do. She just didn't want to be in his presence any longer.

"Kendra! Get back here!" Irked now, Brendol knew he was at a loose end. Starkiller was gone, all he could do was wait and lie low until Ren was healed. That meant staying here. But he'd be damned if he lived under her rule. She'd be tyrannical. Every day would be a power struggle. He might have paid the staff but they lived with her, respected her. She caught him off guard when she stopped on the next landing and looked down at him with an annoyed, curled lip. _"_

 _What. Is. It. Now?!"_ He shouldn't have had this much toil with his wife. Why couldn't he have been given someone docile?! Why this psychopath?!

"We have a lot to discuss, Kendra. You'll be dining with me tonight."

"Will I?" It was spat with something of a sarcastic surprise. "You think you're going to walk in here after who knows how long and order **ME** around?! Did the Finalizer warp your brain, Brendol? Or Starkiller? Because **THAT** is not happening!" He remembered why he couldn't wait to get away from her. She infuriated him. She took his carefully ordered military persona, the discipline and decimated it. With her around, he could barely contain himself; she questioned everything, those vicious little asides and the sniping insults.

"I'll be sending someone for you in an hour! Make sure you change!"

" **I'M NOT CHANGING!"**


	2. Exposing A Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get vicious between Kendra and Brendol over dinner. Veiled threats kick their rivalry up a notch to a new degree of savagery. Gloves are OFF.

Brendol had won this round. Not only was she turning up to dinner, she had also changed her dress and her hair too. As much as it killed her, she couldn't wear a summer day dress to dinner. She could abandon sleeves, she wasn't an animal. She stared herself down in the mirror: Stunning as usual and it was to prove a point. He had won getting her to dinner but that was all he'd win tonight. She was determined to whittle him and whittle him she would.

 

Brendol was a proud man and the way to bring a proud man to his knees was to barrage his ego. So she would try a different tactic. Her dress was of a dark, blood red shimmersilk; it hugged her curvature, tightened on her chest (just about enough left to the imagination) and flowed at the back like a deadly war fan. It gave her a lethal confidence; she was practically predatory as it allowed her to prowl with purpose and strength. Her hair had been loose when he saw her earlier but now it was all pinned down to one side so it showered over one shoulder; like Medusa's snakes.

 

Her jewellery glinted in the candle light of her room; polished silver encrusted with urdiamonds, most likely blood mined from the moon of Nothoiin. Make up in place and perfected: This was how a woman of her standing was supposed to dress for dinner. Unless she had a guest, she didn't. Tonight, she did. And he was just that; a guest. He could have whatever delusions he wanted, he was treading on her territory now.

Out of habit, Brendol stood from the table when his wife entered the room which he mentally scolded himself for. She ignored him. Walked straight past him to the furthest end of the dinner table which, incidentally, was large enough to comfortably seat twenty people. And she chose the end furthest from him; _the other head of the table_. He took her in as she walked past him. At least his money was well spent. High maintenance and unapologetic. By the time she reached her seat, her husband had already retaken his.

 

"I'd rather you sat closer to me."

"And since when have I done what you'd rather?" Was her immediate reaction, watching him with the very ghost of a smirk as her glass was filled. They had begun. "Neither of our fathers are happy, Brendol." She told him lightly after a few moments, picking up her glass and swirling the crimson liquid inside, gazing down at it as she did. "They have been in touch with each other and my father has been in touch with me. You're lucky he's taken up on Aargau with business otherwise he'd be here with a few choice words for you."

"Neither your father nor mine worries me." He retorted harshly, having started on his own glass already. "I have far bigger things to worry about." Their first course was served. Some rare, foreign meat but he didn't care. He had spent so long aboard the Finalizer and Starkiller eating the basics and often being too busy to even remember to eat. When Starkiller became just a memory and they were exiled to that tiny, wretched ship, food was even scarcer. However, he would not allow his starvation to dictate his demeanour. He would be calm and collect as always, knowing Kendra would be looking for a crack.

 

Brendol was older than her. Eight years older and they had been married three years. He and her father (Brendol's own father had not been involved) had conducted the deal themselves, the younger male feeling it was about time he attended to more than just his career. Kendra had been raised on Aargau where her family still resided and her father still dominated as a ruthless banker. The corruption within the banking sector on the exceptionally wealthy planet meant her father had access to untold funds; one of the reasons he had managed to convince the General to take Kendra off his hands in the first place.

 

He had been hooked by her looks already but her vicious nature made him question the exchange. Kendra was beautiful, wealthy and with a respectable age gap, had plenty of child-bearing years but he hadn't counted on her being such a wicked individual. Still, he had the best of both worlds. He was away from her on the Finalizer and Starkiller but with the continued financial support of his father in law on Aargau. A mutual service. 

"Ah yes, your beloved Supreme Leader Snoke." It was said with a mocking undertone which ripped Hux's attention to the magnificent creature across from him and forcing himself forward in his seat.

"Don't you dare….!"

"Dare what?" He sat back in his chair and seized his glass again, reminding himself of restraint. "Don't threaten me unless you can live up to it, Brendol. And we both know you can't." Hux drained his glass and refilled it from the jug of wine beside him. He was starting to rely too heavily on the wine too soon. She noticed.

"Kylo Ren will be healed soon. And when he is, Snoke will complete his training. We will claw back what we have lost, we will rebuild and then you will respect me, Kendra! You WILL learn your place!" She was succeeding. She had gouged her way under his skin by now and she had only just started. The male's nostrils were well and truly flared; he became more aggressive with his food, stabbing at it with his fork, demeanour be damned.

"I hold more cards than you think I do, Brendol." The female took a sip from her wine to wash down the small bite she had just chewed. As if she wasn't too troubled by what he'd said. He, however, snapped his attention back to her, eyes flashing. _Was she threatening him?!_

 

" **Meaning?!"** He pressed her viciously from the other end of the table and the casual flicker of perfectly lined eyes had him hot under the collar.

"When you hired my staff, you didn't bother to do background checks, did you?" His blood ran cold but she continued. "You think that just because this is Arkanis that there aren't Resistance affiliates here? Most of my staff have affiliations or have family who are within the Resistance itself." She didn't seem put out by this; quite pleased with it if anything.

 **"WHO?!"** He spat, the humiliation growing at such a simple oversight.

"Like I'd tell you." She drawled luxuriously without sparing him a glance and she could feel him grow that little bit more infuriated.

 **"TELL ME, KENDRA!"** The table shook as a pale, clenched fist collided with it. Glasses and candlesticks quaked briefly but Kendra remained unperturbed. She looked at him now and the temperature dropped in the room, despite the raging fire behind her that cast a sinister shadow on the chair and the female in it. _"_

 _If you were to lay a hand on_ _ **any**_ _of my staff, Brendol, I can promise you faithfully that I would give you a whole new reason to fear me."_ Kendra hissed darkly from across the table though it was perfectly audible.

"I don't fear you, Kendra." His heart had started to hammer and he didn't seem to notice that one strand of fiery red that had come loose in his outburst; he was fuming. The cracks were starting to show. "Yes, you do. You wouldn't be here otherwise. You know there's nowhere else in the galaxy where you can be protected. That's why you're here."

 

He couldn't take anymore. In the rage his wife had provoked, Hux hurled his chair backwards and stood for a moment. She waited but didn't need to do so for long. Brendol's boots hammered against the plush carpet of the dining room but Kendra stared ahead of her, ignoring his pace as he tore towards her, expecting some sort of contact. The female's delicate throat was seized and jerked ferociously to force her to look at him. Brendol's chest heaved with raw offense that she didn't even have the decency to be afraid. He was hurting her but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing it.

 

 _"Go on, Brendol."_ Kendra purred with contempt, locking her bright blue gaze with his icy one, that almost ever present smirk would be the death of him. _"Be a man. Surprise me."_ With his free arm Brendol cleared her end of the table; plates, cutlery, glasses, everything went tumbling to the floor with a symphony of various different metals crashing against each other.

 

This was what she'd wanted. This was the power she had over him and she would _not_ let him forget it. No more than two seconds later and she was on her back on the table. Though she said nothing, that savage look was goading him, baiting him and he took it. Several layers of expensive shimmersilk were pushed up until he found what he was looking for. He eased himself in between her legs and buried his face in the sallow, exposed flesh of her neck; biting and sucking at whatever skin he could. Kendra's head tilted back as if to give him better access and from his lips and tongue against it, he could almost taste the moan rising in her throat. Resistance was futile; he'd already lost.

His hands were busy. At first, they were busy tearing at the fabric that encased her breasts. Then they were busy struggling with pulling his swollen length out of his trousers then swiping Kendra's underwear down her legs and tossing them over his shoulder into the fire. He lined himself up with her entrance (he found her wetter than expected) and pushed in with little mercy. One leg wrapped around his waist for angle and depth.

 

He covered his wife's body with his own once more and lastly used his hands to hold her wrists down against the table. She didn't struggle but he held her fast regardless. Whether they didn't notice the staff member who came in to take their plates or just ignored them; said staff member didn't know but quickly made an exit when she saw the clinch her employers were in. Kendra's gasp upon his entry drove him on to a barrage of hard, brutal thrusts.

 

He didn't look at the contortion of absolute ecstasy on her face as he filled her with each swift, crushing movement; he was too immersed in her breasts for that. Again, licking and nipping wherever he could. The collective moans and the distinct snarls of pleasure could no doubt be heard from outside the dining room though no one would dare disturb them. For several minutes, the repetition of his hard, beating thrusts and her hot moisture wore at the pair of them. They'd finish soon and Kendra was determined to go first. She knew if he did, she'd need to finish herself later.

 

She was successful. Kendra's orgasm hit her in waves, accompanied by a low, guttural moan; her eyes snapped shut and her walls tightening close around him. That seemed to be what tipped him over the edge. Hux's hips bucked unevenly with an almost pained groan as every drop spilled into her, being milked out by her contracting walls. He scarcely had himself tucked back into his trousers before collapsing down onto his wife's chest to catch his breath. She quickly removed him.

 

Kendra regained herself a lot more quickly than her husband did. He shakily sat back in his chair and stared at his plate, his appetite forgotten. She'd bested him. He thought he was better than that. He thought he had more control, obviously not. He was so immersed in post-coital wonderings and mortification that he didn't notice his wife walk along the side of the table, her own meal abandoned.

 

She didn't head for the door behind him. Not yet. Before Brendol could make sense of anything, his face was grabbed, either cheek in between Kendra's four fingers and her thumb, his chin resting in the palm of her hand. Surprisingly strong for such a small woman with a grip like a vice. Her lips crushed hard against his, bringing the mutual tang of wine, though there was no love in it, no romance. Just pure, unadulterated hatred. Yet, he'd unknowingly returned it. When she suddenly ended it, she spoke in the same dangerous hiss she had earlier. _"_

 

 _Don't forget what happened here tonight, Brendol."_ Her grip on his face did not relent. _"We both know_ _ **exactly**_ _what I can do to you. What I can reduce you to. Your military training and discipline? It means nothing. You are just the same as every other man. I can make you crumble like a pillar of dry dirt. I can unravel you like twine. Your downfall won't be Snoke; it won't be the Resistance, even if the Republic were still intact, it wouldn't be them either._ _ **I**_ _will be your undoing, Brendol._ " Kendra released his face, thrusting it lightly away from her and for a moment, he stayed in the position he landed in. 

 

"Do you remember where my chambers are?" He remembered but he was half afraid to confirm it.

"Yes…."

"Good. Stay away from them." Without another word, she swept from the room; leaving him in shameful silence.


	3. Precious Knight of Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren wakes up to a reason to stay at the villa. Hux won't allow it. Kendra marks Brendol in another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t seen Fifty Shades of Grey but that version of Crazy in Love by Beyoncé? Shit son, I’ve been listening to it on repeat as I’m writing this. I think it’s just the music has the right sinister sound for this and maybe the lyrics in the most fucked up way possible. xD

Kendra maintained her presence in the villa as always. She did not shy away from Brendol though he was at unease in her company. If she entered a room, he would quickly leave it. What had happened in the dining room was not discussed nor repeated but it happened nonetheless. That had been her way of marking her territory and making him feel subordinate in his own home. It had been her way of making him question everything he was and everything he’d striven to be. She’d undone him in a matter of minutes.

 

His carefully ordered discipline had gone up in smoke the moment Kendra walked into the room. And it _had_ been when she walked into the room. The dress, the demeanour, the way she’d looked at him with disgust and disdain. That merciless goading had been the last straw. How could he not crumble? That vicious bitch wouldn’t have stopped until he did. Still, it had been a lot of poison out of his system. A lot of pent up stress and strain from both the Finalizer and Starkiller Base had been relieved in that impulsive experience.

 

He often thought back on it, remembered the details that he could. He’d taken to doing so in bed though he wasn’t sure what outcome he wanted from that and so thought about something else quite promptly. And now he was in the palm of her hand. Maybe his guard wouldn’t drop again; maybe he wouldn’t be distracted again. Deep down, he doubted it.

 

When Kylo Ren finally woke a week or so after being brought to the villa, Brendol could heave a sigh of relief. He would need some time for recovery but after that, he would bring him to Snoke; a reprieve from Kendra. He would stretch out that reprieve for as long as he could; looking for any remnants of the First Order. Anyone that might have survived.

 

Anyone that might be able to help him rebuild or at least begin to while Kylo Ren was being trained. He was a bit dubious about counting on his father in law this time, especially if there was any truth to what Kendra had said at dinner. There had to be some hope. No doubt with the destruction of Starkiller, the Academy would claim it was a simple training facility with no links to the destruction of the Republic.

 

Kylo Ren stood maskless on the balcony, leaning against the cool, damp stone under his ungloved hands. It had been some time since he’d felt sunlight or even a tickling breeze. This was especially rare with the climate Arkanis usually experienced; it was usually cold and wet and this was technically summer. Even though there were strands of sunshine, little beads of rain from the night previous glimmered on almost every surface; be it the leaves on the trees, the blades of grass or on the pathway that seemed to roam endlessly through the lush green gardens outside Kylo Ren’s window.

 

After all, with a climate this wet, the foliage was bound to benefit. Everything flourished but nothing was unkempt. The wind in his hair was a glorious treat, lifting his hand to his forehead to block the rays of the sun was a wonderful chore while the slight chill in the air felt magnificent against the consistent stinging in his bare torso. Blaster shots, lightsaber burns, snow burn….. The medics were astounded. They put his recovery down to his flow of the Force. There seemed to be a calm in the storm as he looked up to a blue sky with only scattered clouds, not a full blanket like the day before. Ren noticed something to his right. Movement. Though he was a few feet up, he could see it perfectly.

 

A woman? She wore no cloak as if she was used to the climate. Her dress was a sort of off cream colour, light and airy but long seemingly for the same reason as the lack of cloak. It moved like it was part of her but the long sleeves were a slight extension that moved in the wind. She was sallow, exceptionally beautiful. He couldn’t quite see her eyes but the black kinks that rolled over her back and shoulders gave something of an air of mystery to that stunning creature.

 

Kendra had no experience with the Force. She knew about as much about it as the next person and she did not have any desire to learn anything extra. She did know, however, when she was being watched. The dark haired female stopped dead in her stride and followed the stare. It brought her to Kylo Ren; barely clothed on his upper half on one of the guest balconies.

 

To his surprise, she was not afraid or nervous; she didn’t shrink away. Instead, she boldly returned his stare; brazen and unperturbed by his dark presence. They marked each other silently for a while, taking each other in. His interest was hungry, hers was merely curious. As tuned in to the world around him as Ren was, it seemed the woman below him caught the disturbance first. For a moment, he was confused when she cast a look of utter scorn in his direction and then with a subtle toss of her hair continued on her way. The look wasn’t meant for him.

“Another day or so and we’ll be leaving.” The nasally accent came from over his shoulder and Ren rolled his eyes.

“I think I found a reason to stay.” The dark haired male replied without taking his eyes off the woman below. She was ignoring him now. Hux approached the balcony and looked over. Kendra.

 

“Take my advice, leave her well alone.” Brendol did his best to urge the Knight without trying to sound too dissuasive. “She’s dangerous. Not just to us, our cause as well.”

“How?”

“Ties to the Resistance and the Old Republic.” The General answered briskly, getting impatiently flustered by Kylo Ren’s continuous questions about Kendra. He pushed the flashing word _jealousy_ to the back of his mind.

“And why, General, is there a Resistance sympathizer in your home?” It didn’t change his fascination. It increased it if anything, almost as if Hux was hiding something. Brendol’s pale face flushed as Ren’s probings continued.

“She was essential to building Starkiller. We could not have funded it otherwise.”

“You expect me to believe that a Resistance sympathizer paid for Starkiller?” Brendol huffed with frustration. It seemed his colleague wasn’t as clever as Snoke made him out to be.

“No, her father is a banker on Aargau. He funded it but Kendra was the stipulation. The funding for Starkiller was a…. dowry.” The darker haired of the two men stared at his redheaded counterpart. It couldn’t be. _Her?!_

“You’re telling me that she’s your wife?”

“ _Yes!! She is!!”_ Hux snarled suddenly, looking over the balcony again, Kendra was gone. _“And you’ll stay away from her!!”_

 

Kendra narrowly missed the next downpour. She knew the calm wouldn’t last. It never did on that bloody planet. Tea in the drawing room was the only viable option for her now. She stood at the window as the rain lashed against the window pane with force.

 

Absentmindedly, she would sip from the tiny china cup in her hand. She ignored the seat built into the windowsill, preferring to stand. A thunder storm was on its way; she could feel it. He had focused on finding her; he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to think about what he was going to say when he confronted her. Though the carpet was deep, Kendra heard the footsteps. Irritated footsteps. She knew who they belonged to.

 

“Look who could finally stomach being in the same room as me again.” She jeered softly from the window without turning around when he arrived. Already, his ears had started to pinken. “What do you want, Brendol?”

“I’m leaving with Kylo Ren tomorrow.” It wasn’t said with as much conviction as he had hoped.

“You might actually die this time.” That coldness sent shivers up his spine, the way she hated him so casually (literally, there was nothing more casual than sipping her tea and staring out the window) just made the familiar clawing of desperation rise again, despite how he tried to push it down.

“You’re to stay away from him until then.” Her head turned; barely a fraction, but it was enough for him to see that sadistic smirk tilting on those dark lips….. _Please stop….._ He internally begged both himself and her. Control seemed to be fading from him again.

“Are you jealous, Brendol?” He didn’t answer. His voice would betray him if he did. It seemed he couldn’t count on his own body anymore.

 

 

“Come here.” As though on autopilot, his legs carried him towards her, furthering his theory. As he did, she set down her cup on a nearby ledge and waited. When he was a mere few inches from her, she lifted her right leg and placed it on the seat in the windowsill. Brendol’s eyes were drawn and his mouth dried as she pulled up her dress agonizingly slow.

 

He wanted to push it up, to bury himself in the skin but she had him like a dog waiting for a command. She slipped the flimsy material up her calf, over her knee and up her thigh. There sat a holster. Like a garter and its silver content was slipped out into her hand.

 

“Do you know this dagger, Brendol?” She asked in the same goading quiet she had the night he arrived. The beautiful, ornate silver weapon sat in her hand perfectly; as if it had been made for her. Yet, it didn’t surprise him that she had it.

“Yes….”

“Have you seen it before?”

“No….”

“How do you know it?” Hux watched her, seemingly entranced by the way the point of the dagger met the pad of her index finger and she twisted it as she waited for an answer. It didn’t seem to be hurting her.

“It was under your pillow on our wedding night.”

“It was. Very good.” The purred praise seemed even more dangerous.

“Why didn’t you use it?” There was a calculating pause. He knew the answer already.

“I was waiting for you to hurt me. Lucky for you, you didn’t. Besides, wasn’t there enough blood in the bed that night?” There had been a little spot under Kendra that night that he (in some inexplicable attempt at gentleness) had tried to prevent as much as possible but such was female anatomy. Especially the virgin kind.

 

“Stay away from Kylo Ren.” He wasn’t sure how he’d mustered the words but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was closer now, her chest pressed right up against his and for a moment, he was distracted enough not to notice that she had removed the dagger from her finger.

“Brendol….” The breath was as cold as the outside of the window pane. He felt something on his face; hot but not unpleasant on his cheek. The realization hit him. He was frozen, horrified as his wife’s finger ghosted over his cheek bone, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake, marking him in another traumatizing way. “I have no interest in a First Order scumbag like Kylo Ren.”

 

He stood rooted to the spot as her finger left his face and went to her own mouth instead. Something stirred within him as he felt the tip of the dagger dragging lightly along the crotch of his trousers, seeking out where she knew his manhood would be.

“Take your precious Knight of Ren……”

“I’ll be back.” It was almost a promise, not that she cared if he came back or not.

“Of course you will.” She replied nonchalantly, continuing to graze the blade along his now more obvious length. _“Because no one can fulfill your sick little fantasies like I can.”_  She retracted the weapon upon the venomous hiss leveled his face with hers. He seemed to do it automatically since he had the height advantage. She didn’t kiss him; rather she latched on hard to his bottom lip until he tasted his own salty metallic. Then she was satisfied.

_“_ _Now get out.”_


	4. A Parting Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol has to vent his frustrations from the drawing room. When he returns to challenge Kendra, he finds her in a very difficult position where her vulnerability has surfaced for the first time in three years. He's rewarded for resolving the situation in one more encounter before he leaves for Snoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think this was going to do so well but it is and it’s all thanks to you sick fuckers!! Do let me know what you think. ;) This got a little crazy with the word length, sorry not sorry. I've written twice as much as I normally do but I couldn't stop so..... Christ, imagine THEIR Valentine’s Day!! Chapter summary aside, this is NOT the last chapter. I'm actually enjoying this more than I thought I would. Happy Valentine's!!

Humiliated and denied; Hux had left the drawing room with his blood boiling (or what was left of it that hadn't rushed down to his lower quarters and stayed there). He was quickly learning about Kendra. While in her presence, he was weak, helpless. She tore down every defence, no matter how carefully built, with little to no effort. He couldn't place it; found it impossible to figure out why she obsessed him. Was it because she opposed him with no fear?

 

Was it because, despite the obvious hatred, she toyed with him so mercilessly and appealed to some strange desires he didn't know he had? _Sick little fantasies._ Maybe she was able to read him better than he thought she could. He had never discussed anything of the sort with her. They didn't even inquire after each other's wellbeing, let alone discuss _that._ She clearly saw something in him that he couldn't even see within himself and exploited it ruthlessly. Did he enjoy it? He'd be lying if he said he didn't. It was odd; when it was happening, he was so encased in it that he wouldn't be able to answer that question. But when it was over, he craved it all over again. Kendra had always been vicious. Even when he first met her and before he married her, she'd been a serpent.

 

Glowering looks, disdained eye rolling, impatient tutting. She got worse when that trapping ring was put on her finger and continued to do so three years later. The only time there had been a kink in her armour had been their wedding night. There had been fear and distrust in her eyes; would she have been able to reach for that dagger and use it? Perhaps. It didn't even stretch to hatred (that had been quickly restored when the consummation was over); he convinced himself that was the reason he'd been gentle with her the one time she'd been most vulnerable.

 

Brendol returned to his room and ran a bath. She stressed him, infuriated him and now he was unsatisfied. She'd strategically depraved him in a torturous move to bring him back for more. With the lotions in and the water pouring into the tub, he stood in front of the mirror and inspected the now dried streak of blood on the side of his face. His eyes flickered to the swollen puncture in his lip. That evil, deranged she-wolf. He touched it and flinched; it seemed his weakness had peaked since arriving here. On the comfort of Starkiller and Finalizer, he never would have crumbled the way he did here.

 

It wasn't his surroundings though; it was the company. Namely Kendra. Brendol stripped with disinterest; his only goal was to soak. Eyes closed, he lay back in the water and felt it gently ebb away at the kinks in his muscles. He had not forgotten about the uncomfortable rod of arousal that poked through the water though partially hidden by the rich lather, lying against his stomach. Whatever way he shifted in the water, his hand brushed it and his eyes opened. It was begging for his attention.

 

Eyes closed again, Brendol's hand brushed it again and again until he finally took himself in hand with a few slow strokes to start off. He gave a small murmur of self-appreciation and let his thumb caress the head listlessly; unsure if the wet was from the bath or a tiny sample of pre-cum. His grip tightened. He swallowed. His strokes picked up their pace. He could feel her. _Was that his hand or hers?_

 

He opened his eyes briefly; he was alone in the bathroom. Darkness consumed his vision again and his hardened swipes continued to a whole new set of groans and ecstatic grunts. Her breath breezed his neck and when he looked, he was still alone. _How was she able to creep into his head like that?!_ As if her lack of appearance irritated him, Brendol's eyes snapped shut and his head dipped back as the water moved around him, splashing in the rhythm of his hand plunging rapidly in and out. His breathing was quick and shallow and he could hear hers hitching with him.

 

He tried to remember: Had he ever seen her naked? Properly, fully naked? No. He'd remember if he had. As his hand moved, he tried to picture her totally and completely bare. No dress, no corset, no underwear nothing. Not an ounce of fabric on that sallow skin. He wanted to see her chest, her shoulders, her back, her thighs, hair up so he could see it all; not just the snippets he had seen during their short encounters and even their wedding night. Brendol could feel the fire building in the pit of his stomach and the more he pictured his wife exposed, the more fuel was added.

 

He was practically throttling his member now, his fist tight and clenched, the lubrication coming from the slightly thickened water from the bath lotion. He wanted to sit and watch her unadorned, wanted to take in every inch of raw skin, touch it, taste it…. That was it. He exploded. Brendol gave a strangled, stuttered cry of absolute euphoria and relief as little strands of semen either mixed with the water or just floated in it. Whatever way he looked at it, she had done it to him. And she wasn't even there.

 

Brendol dried and dressed himself with the intention of seeking Kendra out before he left. His time in the bathtub seemed to have awakened something in the male. Would it change when he was in her ever intimidating presence? He hoped not.

 

"Where is she?!" The redhead barked at the first of Kendra's staff that he came across, causing the meek young woman to jump.

"Still in the drawing room, sir!" She squeaked with something akin to terror. "But she has company, sir!" _Company?!_ Brendol stormed towards the room he had been ejected from earlier, took a moment to calm himself then pushed in the door ever so quietly to catch Kendra in her disobedience. He saw her first; sitting in one of the staunch wooden arm chairs by the fire place with one foot on the ground and the other on the seat close to her body, hitching her dress up. She hadn't noticed him yet which led to jealousy rising like bile in his throat. It may have had something to do with the large, pale hand clasped over her throat from behind, forcing her head to tilt back to her _company._

Her eyes were half closed, clearly entranced by whatever he was saying to her. Kylo Ren in all his black robed but unmasked splendour. He stood behind her chair with the fire casting an ominous glow, reaching over her shoulder with her throat firmly held in one hand; the other was buried in her hair. His thumb appeared to slowly caress the delicate skin of her jawline as he leaned down, his mouth only inches from her ear. Brendol couldn't hear what was being said but he didn't like it. If it had been any man; he wouldn't have liked it. Kylo Ren was even worse.

 

" _Get. Out."_ Ren looked up and Kendra's eyes flickered open. She blinked once then twice then allowed her vision to trail to Brendol with the mildest look of surprise. Ren straightened up but didn't remove either of his hands.

"You're interrupting." Ren spoke plainly and boldly, immune to the General's instruction and the line he was obviously overstepping.

" _This is_ _ **my**_ _house. She is_ _ **my**_ _wife._ _ **I told you to GET OUT!"**_ Ren removed his hands and grudgingly stepped away from Kendra. Brendol was watching Kendra; she had given her head a small, brief shake as if trying to remove a small insect from her hair on a summer's day. Realization hit him but she was still recovering. Hux saw red and it was no longer to do with finding Ren with his hand wrapped around his wife's throat. _How dare he?!_ As Ren went to stride past him, Brendol stuck out an arm and grabbed a handful of the Knight's robes, dragging him back to face him. The burning fury in his eyes would have been enough to terrorise man or beast.

 _"_ _If I catch you near her again…."_ Brendol began with a vicious hiss, one side of his lip curled up into a snarl. _"And if I catch you trying to force your way into her head again, Snoke will_ _ **not**_ _be your only worry."_ He didn't notice the look as the situation dawned on Kendra; he was too busy submerging Ren in his threat. The taller of the two male's wrenched his robes free of Hux's hand and thundered from the room, disgusted at getting caught.

 

Brendol waited a moment before he crossed the room and sat in the chair facing hers.

"Are you alright?" It took her a while to answer, time to process what had almost happened. There was that vulnerability again. He knew it. She was used to control and with Kylo Ren in her head, the last thing she had was control; she just seemed to stare at nothing.

"Did he just…."

"Yes." Silence again. The thought occurred to him to leave her in peace rather than impose himself on her. But he was hesitant to do so. If Ren saw him elsewhere, he might try again. He seemed to have a problem with not getting his own way. "I told you to stay away from him." Her eyes snapped to him, outraged at the undeserved blame.

"He came in here after you left! I told you I have no interest in the lightsaber wielding brat!" She was back to herself; the look of distaste she sported now was proof of that. Maybe she didn't realize how close she'd come. Maybe she underestimated Kylo Ren and his power. "And even if I did, your jealousy rears its ugly head again, Brendol." What was the point in denying it?

 

Kendra's eyes slipped upwards to find Brendol standing over her. One large hand slid up the exposed flesh of her leg where her dress had hitched; his resolve from the bathtub holding fast.

"Do you think it matters that you don't love me? That you despise me?" It was almost dangerous; she didn't answer. "It doesn't matter what it is: No one, not even Kylo Ren, takes or intrudes on anything that is mine. Not my food, not my drink, not my wife." He was blocking her vision of everything else; all she could do was stare up at him sullenly, nostrils flaring ever so slightly at the squeeze to her leg. He took a few steps back to give her room for his next instruction. He'd made himself clear now; he wanted to see if she'd be as compliant with him as he'd been with her.

"Stand up." The order was hesitantly obeyed, out of stubbornness and nothing else. "Come here." She sidled towards him. "Stop." She stopped. "Turn around." She did. Hux skirted around the significantly smaller female and took the seat she had occupied. "Strip." An arched eyebrow and a coy smirk greeted his command.

"Revenge is sweet, isn't it Brendol?"

"Indeed. Strip."

 

The tiny metal clasps at the front of Kendra's dress were unfastened and she allowed the light, off cream material to pool at her feet. No underwear; interesting. Brendol took a shaky breath; she was more perfect than he ever could have imagined. The image he had conjured in the bathtub had been a poor imitation by someone who had never seen the real thing. He sat forward in his chair, eyes roving over every curve, every freckle, every dimple. Exquisite.

"Hair up." She submitted there too. A clip was pulled from the ruins of her dress and the obsidian locks were bundled back into a messy bun with a strand hanging here and there for effect.

"Better?"

"Better." Brendol glanced to her face, just for a second. She was _enjoying_ this. This domination was _exciting_ her. There was no shyness, no vulnerability just a gleeful sort of smirk. As if pleased he was taking the upper hand. Maybe it was the power he had exerted over Kylo Ren. His eyes dropped again with her hair out of the way.

 

No pockmarks, no scars, no blemishes. Perfection. He started at her shoulders and worked his way down to her arms that stayed dutifully by her sides. His vision raked her collar bone, down to her chest where he noticed; from a distance that they were medium sized, her nipples pert and rosy from being exposed to the room. By rights, they should have been used for suckling Brendol's children but he had another purpose in mind for them.

Her stomach was not flat but why would he wanted to be crushing against a ribcage and bony hips? Her thighs were neither big nor small but seemingly just right for the size of her body. Every inch of her was pale and milky save for a small, womanly collection of black on her femininity.

 

"Turn around." The second time she was given that direction tonight. She did as she was told. He took in the creamy expanse of her back, the two small dimples on either side of her spine which directed his attention to the strong child-bearing hips that he hadn't noticed as much from the front. His final examination was the curvature of the cheeks of her buttocks that almost invited him to touch them. Part of his fantasy was complete.

 

"Come here." Again, the second time and she heeded as servile as she had the first time. Kendra was lifted so she straddled her husband's lap and waited patiently as he completed the second part; sating the urge to touch every inch. His hands were almost too large for her but it didn't stop him palming over every pore and crevice that he had never explored. Hux's eyes closed at the feeling of her entire naked body pressed up against his.

 

Still his hands just stroked random streaks of flesh, his breathing picking up as he did so. His faze nuzzled in between her breasts as he took in that beautiful scent, whatever it was. Maybe it was just her rather than a perfume. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. Kendra, though she didn't show it or voice it, was confused. Why did he crave this intimacy? Why did he insist on examining her like a show beast? Was it to reinforce ownership? To remind her who she belonged to?

 

Kendra panted lightly at the harsh, damp pressure encased around her left nipple. One hand rested on her hip, the other cupped the right cheek of her buttocks and she found her own arms wrapped around his neck. Already, her shoulder and her neck had been marked, the hollow of her throat swept with his nose and her jawline nibbled. His teeth grazed her and her hips bucked hard against his leg in a brief dry hump.

 

Even beyond his closed lids, Brendol gave a small smirk. His hand left her hip and wandered down between her legs. If his trousers had been any colour other than black, the small wet patch collecting underneath her would have been difficult to deny. He swapped breasts and one long finger discovered the crease between her lips; elated when it was given a sticky coating already. He continued to move his finger but didn't enter her.

 

She was ready but he didn't want to part from her just yet. With a groan of both fever and contention, Kendra was lifted again but kept close to Brendol's still clothed chest. He couldn't take it anymore nor could (he sensed) she. With parts one and two complete: To view her, to touch her…. The prelude to part three had already begun and he wouldn't be satisfied until he truly got to taste her.

 

Kendra found her back against the fur pelt rug in front of the fireplace. It had once belonged to some magnificent animal; some rare, now extinct breed of tauntaun, she believed. Already her skin was beginning to prickle from the close proximity to the heat. Or maybe that was need, she couldn't tell. It was beginning to look like they had called a truce. Yes, he had instigated this specific encounter but it was turning out to be mutually beneficial.The female's chest heaved as she watched him take her in again from above.

 

"I don't care what you plan on doing, just do it!" She hissed at him, almost sounding like her old self.

"Desperation suits you, Kendra." He retorted smugly, still in the heavy black of his clothes (It wasn't his uniform. That had been removed days ago for cleaning. What he wore now was very similar, almost the exact same but without the insignias). He strayed down towards her abdomen, scattering random kisses on random pieces of flesh until he pried her legs apart. He wasted no time in burying his face in his wife's heat. Kendra tensed as a kiss was pressed to her womanhood and after that, her eyes needed to close. To keep them open would be to waste energy she would be too busy giving over to pleasure.

 

Naturally, Kendra had taken her hair down from the hair from the clip to ease any discomfort of her head against the floor. Brendol took great pride in the way she squirmed lightly underneath him. His tongue repeatedly attacked her clitoris, moving it in different formations, seeking a reaction each time. He got it. Two fingers joined this effort, both plunging in slow and deep to keep Kendra whining like she currently was.

 

Hux had never had the luxury of having his wife's hand buried in his hair or indeed pulling on it but now that he had, he was going to relish it. His efforts continued and as they did, his gaze lifted to that beautiful face, contorted and almost pained by the combined strokes of both his tongue and his fingers. He smirked against her, watching her still with her eyes tightly shut, her bottom lip clamped hard under one tooth and her free hand clutching at her left breast. _All mine…._ What he wouldn't have given for Kylo Ren to try again at this moment.

 

The only way to make this better was to emasculate that petulant man-child at the same time. Kendra's whimpers had turned into full on moans of wanton as her hips rolled towards Brendol; as ever he was delighted with the result. She was definitely close; they both knew it. It had been everything he imagined and more during his lonely strokes in the bathtub. _And she responds so well!_

 

When Brendol pulled away, his Kendra's eyes snapped open with a noise of protest. Her secretion covered his nose, his lips and had also greased his chin. _Quite attractive._ She found herself thinking though she had never commented on his looks either in the positive or negative. That would imply she cared enough to take notice. Hux undressed with the thrilling taste of his wife still in his mouth.

 

He needed to get rid of the throb in his trousers; it wouldn't take long. She was already close and so was he just from watching her. It occurred to Kendra that she had never seen her husband naked. Their wedding night had more or less been in the dark and the night he arrived back home had been fully clothed. This was her chance. Yes, he was tall but not all that muscular as one would expect of a General in the First Order. And pale. Unnaturally so. Before she could take any more in, he had flipped her over without issue and propped her up on her hands and knees with a substantial guiding hand under her stomach.

 

Kendra chanced a looked back to see him kneeling behind her, lining himself up with the entrance that he was more than well acquainted with by now. Kendra waited with her eyes half closed and bordering on exhausted but expectant. They felt it in unison, that feeling of fullness for her and that feeling of envelopment for him. It had a similar effect on both of them; panting, groaning, sweating. She was silently grateful for his choice in position. He straightened his back and gripped both her hips tight as leverage as his thrusts started to push in harder and faster with audible grunts of power. It kept out an intimacy they could not afford in their relationship. Casual sex (as casual as a married couple can be?) or 'hate sex' was fine if it worked mutually but it would stop there. This was more like animals breeding than a husband and wife; she preferred it that way.

 

Kendra had been closer to her edge than Brendol so of course, she went before him but she let him use her to reach his own completion. He did as he had done the last two times he'd been inside her. Hux's hips continued to move until he felt the internal grip and the struggle to continue with his thrusting as his body tensed. He was fully sheathed inside her, mid thrust, when his seed spilled so he stopped and let it flow.

 

With his body free of the load, he sank down and covered her back with his chest to ease his hammering heart and labouring lungs. Somewhere in between that, he managed to press a light kiss in between her shoulder blades; the gesture was not appreciated. It was as close as they'd come to cuddling which Kendra would rather not do. He was perfectly happy to remain in her warmth for a while but was roused when he felt her move underneath him. Reluctantly, he pulled out and sat back on his heels as he watched his wife gather her dress and slowly start to reapply it.

 

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Depends on when you're leaving." She didn't make eye contact.

"I don't know yet. Depends on when the ship is ready."

"Then you may or you may not."

"Kendra." She had been about to leave but stopped with a look of mild irritation. "I will be back."

"I know, Brendol. You keep saying. I'm going to bed."


	5. Daddy's Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol returns from delivering Kylo Ren to two not so nice surprises.

Brendol left the next day without incident. Kendra didn’t even get out of bed. She did it on purpose. If she had made the effort to see him off, would he have thought she’d miss him? Or that she didn’t want him to leave? None of that was true. What she _could_ admit was the obvious fun she’d had toying with him over the past week or so. Like a cat playing with something it was about to kill; Kendra had revelled in the fear she installed in Brendol, the disappointment within himself every time she got her way and how he’d look at her before and after an encounter.

 

That look of need and craving. And strangely, he had never been like that before he left for the Finalizer. After their wedding, he had more or less ignored her. Any time he returned home, they engaged each other with hatred only; rigid dinners, sniping insults (she was better at them than he was, as much as he tried, he could rarely find anything wrong with her), passive (and not so passive) aggressive comments. They never laid a finger on each other. But with Starkiller gone…..  It was like it had given him a whole new appetite. Had he been experimenting? Possibly. Was it just a lot of pent up stress from Starkiller and even running command of the Finalizer? Also possible. But which was most likely?

 

Brendol’s plan of drawing out his journey by looking for aid was quickly forgotten about. His goal now was to deliver Kylo Ren (if that wasn’t a tense few days, nothing was), brave questioning from Lord Snoke then get back to the villa as quickly as he could. He was gone little over a week and even at that, he was gone too long. Needless to say, Kendra didn’t miss him. She had spent her time basking in the power she now knew she had over him even though she wasn’t necessarily waiting for him to come back.

 

In fact; as soon as he’d left, she’d gone about making a change she should have made a long time ago. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? It was so obvious! And of course, Brendol would not be pleased when (if) he came back. But wasn’t this her house too? There was also another surprise for him when he came through the door. One he would be even less impressed with.

 

Kendra left her bedroom after a mid-afternoon nap; the ever demanding schedule of a lady of leisure required such a venture, not sheer boredom. If only. Her usual daytime wardrobe applied: Hair down, make up minimal, light flowing gown with somewhat oversized sleeves (today was olive green), low heeled shoes and a basic silver locket. A small change had been made to her attire since he would have last seen her and she was rarely seen without it.

 

A tiny ball of black fluff usually tucked in under her arm and supported with it. His fur would thin as he got older, his skull would elongate and his eyes would become a crueller shade of red. He was cute now but he would grow ugly. Kendra didn’t care. She adored him. He went everywhere tucked under her arm (he was so small she didn’t want to tire him by making him walk) and slept curled up beside her in her bed. He was still only a few weeks old, this was crucial bonding time and already a connection was starting to be forged between her and her precious baby Vornskr.

 

“And when did you get back?” She asked her husband casually as if his appearance didn’t surprise her. She had spotted the redhead in the entrance hall out of the corner of her eye as she walked the upper gallery, she didn’t bother to look down and he was already fixated on her. It was more or less the same place she had seen him for the first time after Starkiller. He had seen her first though; head inclined upwards, watching her without a word.

“Just now.” Kendra reached the stairs and started down it, of course he met her halfway, standing at the bottom. Let the fun begin!

“Kendra?”

“Mmm?” She was trying to focus on not tripping; such was the problem with those dresses.

“What is _that?”_  

“What is what, Brendol?” #

“That thing under your arm?! That black thing?!”

“Oh this?” Kendra adjusted the pup as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. “It’s a puppy.”

“A puppy.”

“Yes, Brendol. A puppy. Like a baby dog. You know what a dog is, don’t you?”

“You know I’m allergic to anything canine, Kendra!”

“I’ll be honest with you, Brendol. That’s part of the reason I got him.” Kendra sauntered past her husband, hips swaying as usual but this time he was familiar with the feelings gripping him, no matter what she did to infuriate him.

“And what about the rest of the reason?!” He demanded, doing his best to keep his eyes off the backside he loved so much.

“Well, I quite missed not having someone to roll on their back when told to since you left so….. I got a dog.” Hux opened his mouth to express an outright fury but she corrected herself. “Actually, he’s not a dog. He’s a Vornskr. Far more expensive than a dog!”

 

“It’s going to leave hairs everywhere!” The General spat, following after Kendra and completely unaware that she had something else far worse in store for him.

“Well, it’s fortunate that you don’t sleep in my bed then, isn’t it, Brendol?”

“I was barely gone a week and half!”

“Yes, I was expecting you to be gone longer. You know; a month or maybe dead. But what’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Come, darling. The garden’s waiting.”

“Darling?” Brendol repeated bluntly with an arched eyebrow as he continued to follow. “That’s a new one.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Brendol. I was talking to Nero. Actually, as you’re here…..” She turned back and he stopped dead in his tracks until she reached him. He couldn’t forget that face. Especially when he had seen it contorted with pleasure. There was mischief in it now though. It concerned him. “If he asks, you haven’t touched me since our wedding night.” Thoroughly confused, Brendol stared at her as if she’d just confessed her undying love for him. Unnerved and suspicious.

“If who asks, Kendra?”

“ **GENERAL!!”** He knew that voice. No, no, no, no, no, no…… He paled a shade. If he noticed, it was because the blood had turned cold in his veins.

“ _Have fun_.” Kendra purred with a false sweetness and resumed her path to the garden, complete with Vornskr. As she went, she passed a large, lean man. A pristinely dressed and groomed man though he wasn’t very attractive. It lead Brendol to believe Kendra had gotten her stature and her looks from her mother. Her vicious nature, however, had come straight from her father. He too was pale and his eyes were a lighter sort of blue than his wicked daughter’s. While Kendra was only twenty six, this man was in his mid-sixties.

 

“It’s been a while, General!” The greeting wasn’t genuine; it was soiled with contempt, Kendra had learned from the master. “A few weeks before Starkiller went up in smoke, I believe!” Romhain Varnett was not pleased and Kendra had warned him when he first returned. He didn’t think he’d be in his home waiting for him though. If Brendol could have avoided his father in law for a while longer, he would have done so wholeheartedly. Brendol didn’t have a response.

“I would have been here sooner only I was actually doing my job, you see!”

“Romhain, I…..” Brendol began in low, respectable murmur but he was cut off.

“Dinner is in just over an hour, General. Get yourself cleaned up.” Romhain had already turned on his very expensive heel and started to walk away, no doubt looking for Kendra. “A shower wouldn’t go astray. We’ll be waiting.”

 

Dinner was excruciating. The three of them sat in silence, eating and drinking as if none of them dared to speak, certainly Brendol didn’t. Romhain had taken over and sat at the head of the table, beside him was his only daughter and directly across from her was her husband. The strain in Brendol’s face was obvious at the mounting pressure of what was to come when this meal was over. Kendra was unperturbed. If anything, she was enjoying this. Her day dress had been swapped for something more extravagant and dark, royal blue. Her hair was not scattered randomly as it had been earlier but pulled back and coiled into a delicate bun behind her head.

 

She chewed away and sipped from her glass but it seemed both men were watching her. For different reasons. Her father was watching everything she was eating and drinking. Brendol was thinking about what would happen this time. Occasionally, she’d reach to the supposedly empty chair beside her and tickle the tummy of the baby Vornskr that lay on it. If they had been alone, Brendol would have demanded she remove it from the table but with Romhain present, he held his tongue. No doubt, the older male would jump in to defend her, just to exert dominance over his son in law.

 

Brendol felt something against his leg. Something soft, something warm but solid. Chancing a glance down, he saw it. Kendra’s foot gliding repeatedly up and down his leg. When he looked to her face, she was casual but purposeful; smirking at him from across the table. She knew exactly what she was doing. At regular intervals, she would make sure her father’s attention was elsewhere and if a look was about to be thrown her way or Brendol’s she would stop.

 

However, when the strokes of her foot moved to his crotch, she was almost determined to make him squirm in front of her father. She succeeded too. The initial brushing against his manhood sent the fork tumbling out of his hand and landing on the table with a clatter. Pink faced, he picked it back up again and _tried_ to continue with his meal. He couldn’t appear clumsy or distracted in front of Romhain; the older man would criticize him for it.

 

That familiar sensation of internal crumbling was starting to worm its way into his stomach and it was nothing to do with the food. Subtly, Brendol pulled his chair closer to the table so she could reach him better. The female subdued a laugh and settled with quirking an eyebrow at him as her foot continued to ever so gently caress the growling bulge in between his legs. If they were alone, he would have stormed around that table by now or jumped over it but he had to exercise restraint and she knew it. _Later._

Brendol was on edge when Kendra left after dinner and he was left alone with his father in law. They had moved into the reception room next door and the General had to adjust his dinner coat to ensure it covered his crotch. Both males had claimed a large, black leather armchair each by the raging fire. These two men were dangerous in their own ways. One had wiped out millions, if not billions of lives with the push of one button.

 

The other was devious and calculating; he destroyed people’s lives on a daily basis, wiping out their savings, refusing loans and to those who he had granted loans who could not repay them…. Death usually followed in strange circumstances. With a cigarra in one hand and a glass of Whyren's Reserve; Romhain drank it like it was water rather than the rarest and most expensive whiskey in the galaxy. Brendol was hesitant to taste it in case he developed a liking for it. He had been offered a thick, exotic cigarra too but declined it. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference as the smoke from his father in law’s was filling his lungs anyway.

 

“What happened?”  The question caught Brendol off guard but he salvaged an answer anyhow.

“Kylo Ren disobeyed orders.” He answered quietly, knowing he’d want to know about what happened to his investment. “He was supposed to retrieve a droid that held the map to Skywalker; instead he kidnapped a scavenger girl who he claimed had seen the map. She turned out to be strong with the Force and overpowered him.”

 

He finally lifted his gaze from the fire suckling on a log to Kendra’s father.

“A team of rescuers came for her with the full fire power of the Resistance. They knew the cracks in the system and exploited them.” He daren’t mention the defective Stormtrooper. “We lost the weapon but not before we wiped out the Republic.”

“Thank the Gods for small mercies.” Romhain was more relaxed now, taking another sip of the amber liquid. He’d refill it soon. “What’s the next step?” Brendol had decided to sample the contents of his glass. The light burning on his tongue told him why it was so costly. Rich, crisp, luxurious.

“I’m waiting to hear.” He replied after another mouthful. “Kylo Ren is with Supreme Leader Snoke now. His training is being completed. I was only told to remain here until I was summoned again.”

 

“If what you’ve told me is true, Brendol.” Romhain began after a long drag on his cigarra. “And I have every reason to believe it is; you are not at fault and I will continue to offer what support I can. The Resistance _must_ be repressed until they can be destroyed fully. Those will no doubt be your next orders." Brendol nodded, tempted to take another sip until his father in law distracted him again.

“May I offer a piece of advice, Brendol?” The younger male wasn’t sure what advice this man could offer him; then again, he assumed they were still on the topic of the First Order. “You almost didn’t make it off Starkiller. If you hadn’t, your line would be gone.” Hux’s stomach knotted. He didn’t want to have this discussion but it seemed he was having it. “It’s been three years, Brendol.”

“I’m aware, I just…..”

“You’re not getting any younger, General. Kendra is fine for a while but the longer it’s left, the more problems you’re going to have.”

“I’ve been away for the last year and a half.”

“And conjugal visits aren’t allowed?” Hux stared at him. _A conjugal visit on Starkiller?!_

“It’s never been suggested….” “Maybe it should.” Brendol squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of what havoc Kendra would wreak on board any of his vessels. Kylo Ren would have a field day.

 

“And what about the year and a half before that?”

“I was overseeing the construction of Starkiller. I was back and forth to the Finalizer. I was here for maybe a few weeks at a time. During that time, she wouldn’t allow me to touch her, so I didn’t.” Romhain surveyed his son in law over the rim of his glass before lowering it to refill it.

“And after Starkiller exploded?” Here was where she wanted him to lie. Should he? Why did she want him to lie anyway?

“No.” He decided to side with his wife. She might reward him for it. “Like I said, she won’t allow it.”

“General.” Romhain sighed impatiently. “You came to my home to speak business. You saw Kendra, you wanted her, I gave her to you. It worked to both our favours. You wanted a line; I gave you a means to start one. There are plenty of others who would take her right now as she is. But if this continues, she’s wasted!” How was he talking about her like she was a dog? Or just some incessant breeding machine? There was no love in the relationship between Brendol and Kendra but even he knew she was more than that.

“Start trying with her. Taking an interest. Start with that foul, black thing she carries around.” The disdain in the younger man’s face was clear at the mention of the Vornskr. At least his father in law shared his views on the animal. “I have four children, my wife isn’t overly fond of me either, Brendol. It just takes time and interest.” There was plenty of interest but it seemed neither of them wanted to reveal that to Romhain. As far as his advice went..... He assumed Kendra wouldn't be keen on taking it. 


	6. Need and Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol oversteps a line and gets punished for it. The not-so-happy couple discuss Romhain's advice and a deal is struck.

Romhain excused himself. He had waited around to speak to Brendol and now that he had, he was eager to get back home to Aargau. Needless to say, his son in law was only too glad to see the back of him. He assumed Kendra felt the same. While she had been hospitable and accommodating to her father, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure she wasn’t encouraging the staff to spit in his food. In her eyes, he was just as much to blame for her current misery as Brendol was. And that advice? Even more so now. Brendol still held the glass in his hand and seemed to stare listlessly into the flames as he turned over Romhain’s words in his head.

 

She’d kill him. She would do her utmost to make his life unbearable and she was already too good at that. He didn’t want children. He _needed_ children. He needed a line to continue his work, his legacy and his name so what he needed were sons. As many as possible. Another sip was taken of that luxurious liquid as he thought it over. He needed sons. He doubted his wife would willingly give them to him. He couldn’t take a mistress; any children he fathered needed to be legitimate. And even if that wasn’t the case, he didn’t want a mistress. He wanted Kendra; poisonous and all as she was.

 

The more he thought about it, the more he tortured himself. It seemed there would be no resolving to get exactly what he wanted and compromise wasn’t an option. Naturally, he couldn’t force Kendra to bear his children but maybe Romhain was right. Maybe taking an interest was the key. Then again; if he knew Kendra (did he know her?), her hatred would win out and every attempt would be shut down. All he could do was try. He swirled the last of the contents in the glass and prepared to gather himself as one of the staff entered the room to remove the glasses, empty the ashtray and presumably open a window.

 

“Where is my wife?” He asked, draining the glass and addressing the woman as if speaking to a droid.

“In her chambers, sir.” She answered submissively, unfazed by the lack of respect. Kendra was more feeling towards them but they had been told not to expect that if and when the master returned. Brendol drained the glass. _Shit._ She’d warned him against her rooms the night he arrived. Surely that didn’t apply anymore? Not after anything that had happened? What would she do if he turned up there? Only one way to find out.

 

Kendra sat barefoot on the rich velvet covered stool in front of her vanity table. This was time to herself; her staff had been dismissed, her only company was the baby Vornskr snoozing on the bed. Kendra’s hair was partially down, she had unpicked a few of the pins. Her dress lay abandoned on the chest at the bottom of the four poster bed leaving the female in just her undergarments. Those consisted of a white, silk bound corset and a pair of pristine silk panties to match.

 

Her loyal dagger sat in the holster on her thigh complacently, it hadn’t been used since the night before he left to deliver Kylo Ren but she wore it out of habit. She took her time removing her jewellery; the legitimate pieces were heavy but it was weight she relished to wear. When the door gradually eased open, her eyes flickered to the mirror in front of her where she caught Brendol defying what she’d told him a few weeks ago.

 

“Are you deaf or just stupid?” She asked him pointedly, focusing on her own reflection now and removing another pin slowly. She watched his reflection out of the corner of her eye; she’d clearly caught him out. He didn’t have an answer. She stayed sitting but turned partially on the stool. “The night you swanned back in here; what did I tell you?”

 

He had moved from the now shut door and closed the distance between them. This pleased her even less. As he got closer, his face had changed and his eyes slipped down; as she expected.

 

“I asked you a question.” Her eyes on him were cold. This wasn’t part of the game. Her room was hers; it was territory off limits to him.

“I didn’t think it applied anymore.” He replied softly as though occupied by something else, gaze roving. The way her breasts were bundled into the corset made them bulge in a way that made his heart sing. And another body part. Brendol sank to his knees beside the stool; an action she rolled her eyes at.

“Get up and get out, Brendol.” Again, he didn’t answer. He was too busy gripping her leg and pressing his barely warm lips against the milky skin of her calf. Deeply irritated now, Kendra ripped her leg out of Brendol’s grasp and with someone unknown strength, drew it back and lodged it hard against her husband’s chest. Stunned, Brendol stumbled backwards where his back met the floor with force.

 

Free and disgusted, Kendra turned back to her own reflection and continued to pick pins out of her hair. She ignored him as he tried to recover from the pounding pain in both his chest and his back and pull himself back up.

“I told you to get out.”

“You and I have things we need to discuss.” He growled at her from the floor, one fiery strand dipping down into his face. Arousal bubbled with the fury; he could feel it and she could probably see it.

“I’ll meet you in the reception room in an hour.” She retorted haughtily without even sparing him a glance. “Now get out.”

 

Brendol sat sullenly in the reception room in the same chair he had occupied earlier. The fire still blazed and he clutched another glass of the whiskey his father in law had left behind. He was starting to get too fond of it. His chest still throbbed from where she’d lashed out at him and it was the first time she had actually used physical force against him. He had underestimated her by thinking her incapable. Yes, she had grabbed his face the night he returned and she had held her dagger against him but she had never actually _hurt_ him. It certainly didn’t matter to her if he was in pain or humiliated as long as he was away from her.

 

He was sure of that much. After a few minutes of sitting down, he started to get restless and fidgety. He’d glance impatiently to the clock on the mantelpiece, waiting for the hour to be up. Sometimes he’d get up and pace; glass still in hand and his glare jumping to the clock obsessively. He waited the hour. Every noise made him round on the door but nothing. An hour and a half came and went and it was only when he had sat down again with the intention of finishing the whiskey after nearly two hours that she decided to join him.

 

“I can’t believe you waited.” Her smirk was cruel and her tone even more so. Brendol glowered over the arm of the chair at her then sat back fully, glass still in hand with a significant amount in it. If that wasn’t a reflection of his feelings nothing was. He probably shouldn’t have waited. He probably should have met her there in the hour as she had specified rather than drinking as he waited.

“You’re late.” He told her harshly before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a greedy mouthful.

“And what is it, Brendol…..” She began goadingly as she started forward and settled in front of him, one hand on each arm of his chair to stare him down. “That you want to _discuss?”_ Instinctively, Brendol lowered the glass and swallowed as he took her in. The corset and the panties were gone. Instead she wore a long, white silk nightdress with thin straps holding it up and enough cleavage to captivate him. Again. Her hair was down; she simply preferred it that way when she slept.

“It doesn’t matter what I wear, your imagination goes into overdrive, doesn’t it?” She asked in a heated whisper before swiping the glass from his hand into her own and taking a controlling sip. As much as he had been enjoying the contents, he didn’t protest. He simply watched her strolling aimlessly around the room with his glass in hand, taking random sips while his eyes danced around the thigh high split in her nightdress; how it widened when she walked.

 

“Well?” She purred sadistically from one of the other chairs in the room. Sitting with her legs thrown over one arm and her back resting against the other, he restrained himself from getting up. For now. “What did that old bastard want?” Brendol hesitated. This would not be met well. No matter how he put it. It was best to just do it.

“He said we need to start trying for children.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth and the room was engulfed by a vicious cackle.

“ _I knew it!!”_ She hissed, ecstatic, through those vile giggles with her head tossed back and her eyes closed. That grin was positively unnerving. He stared at her with wide eyes, as if her insanity had just been confirmed. It took a while for Kendra to calm down but the notion was seemingly too entertaining for her. _Her carrying Brendol’s children!!_ “And tell me, Brendol. What do _you_ think?” As before in Romhain’s presence, Brendol was uncomfortable. It wasn’t a topic he liked discussing; it was private after all. But if there was anyone he should have been discussing it with, it was her.

“I think he’s right.” Was his honest and pointed answer but it was greeted with a scoff and another hearty sip from the opposite corner of the room. “It’s why I married you, Kendra!” He barked, annoyed at her response and how flippantly she was taking this.

“You married me for money, Brendol!” She snapped suddenly, her legs swung back down to the floor and sat strong in the chair.

 

“Your line was an afterthought! Starkiller came first! If your line truly mattered to you, I wouldn’t have just been dumped here for three years!” She felt the daggers coming from her husband’s direction. She’d only spoken the truth and he knew it.

“How did you know?” He challenged her when they had both had time to breathe.

“You think you were the only one watching me at the dinner table?” She asked with a perfect eyebrow quirked though she was immersed in the glass. Not for long though. Her scornful eyes returned to him as she spoke. “He watched every bite I put into my mouth, he watched every sip of wine I took. And do you know why?” He held his tongue. “He was watching what I was eating to make sure I was looking after myself. Making sure I was eating enough and eating the right things to prepare for a pregnancy. That’s why!” That made sense. Of course something like that would be a concern to a father but Brendol would have assumed it was more for Kendra’s wellbeing rather than preparing her body for a child she didn’t necessarily want.

“And then there’s you.” She drawled lazily, swirling the contents of her glass. It was hers now. “Staring across the table like something depraved. Even in my father’s presence.” Kendra got to her feet and resumed her casual saunter that he ogled ceaselessly.

“That’s a no then?” He asked when she drew even with him. “You don’t want children?”

“Oh no, I’d love to have children.” Kendra replied with borderline enthusiasm and lifted the glass to her lips, draining the last of the liquid. There was a rising of hope in his chest before she spoke again. “I just don’t want _your_ children.”

 

He hadn’t expected that to sting. But it did. They stared each other down; she was waiting for a reaction.

“Explain.” He demanded quietly as his nostrils flared in distaste. _That bitch_.

“When I have children, Brendol. Not if, when, I have them.” She moved closer to him now. “I want them to grow up in a loving home. This is not a loving home. Not with you in it. How can I bear the children of someone I despise? It would pain me to look at them and think ‘I loathe the other half of you.’” She was right in front of him now; so naturally Brendol seized her and pulled her into his lap, hand immediately diving for the slit. “But I’ll make a deal with you, Brendol.” She hissed in his ear, knees on either side of him and her hands on his shoulders.

“We continue as we are. My father never finds out. If you manage to get me pregnant, **_if_** ; I will do exactly as I am expected to do. Deal?” She was far too confident in this but he was too clouded both from the whiskey and from the mounting pressure in his groin to even notice.

“Deal….” He muttered into the frantic kisses he had started to scatter on her chest and stomach, unsure if he wanted to remove the nightdress or not. She was so beautiful naked but there was something wonderfully sensual about this.

 

He decided to leave it on. He dragged down the collar to release the breasts he admired so much and claimed one with his mouth. One of his new favourite things. One of the things he had longed for when he was away delivering Kylo Ren. She let him suckle for a while with heavy inhales and exhales on her part, restraining the urge to moan with the resolve of making him work harder for it. It wasn’t just sounds he was looking for. He loved the way her body tensed, he loved the way her head would tip back and the length of her curls would grace off his legs.

 

It was times like this that he thought about how well they’d work if she didn’t hate him; if she didn’t dig in her heels and just let him lead her. When the new Empire would surface, he would be at the helm. He wanted to be seen with this stunning creature and the capable, secure line she’d willingly give him. He wanted her to support him; he wanted her to readily share a bed with him. She was formidable and strong; intimidating to anyone who would dare oppose them. It may have been a fantasy but it was one he was going to work on bringing to life.

 

The General was too involved with Kendra’s chest to realize she had undone his trousers. When he felt it, he broke away from her left nipple and watched the nasty smirk spread as he came more and more undone with each stroke. He had fantasized about this in the bathtub too. He couldn’t tell if it was his hand or her own then but this was definitely hers. Light, slow and in a soft, pampered hand. This was better. Infinitely better. Brendol had to shut his eyes. He simply could not keep them open nor would his mouth stay closed. It hung ajar and just like the night he came home, she revelled in it.

 

She loved watching what this servant of the First Order could be reduced to with just a touch of her hand. Her strokes were long and deliberate but the way his breath hitched and he had trouble swallowing, she knew this was the way to crack him. He was fully lifted but still she stroked until it was obvious he couldn’t take anymore. He indicated it by the impatient squeeze to her naked buttock from the hand that had slipped through the slit.

 

Kendra positioned herself just right before sinking her weight down into her husband’s lap. They both paused for a moment to let the feeling settle and to appreciate that initial sensation. The dark haired female straightened herself and wrapped her arms around his neck, her partially clothed chest pressed hard against his before she started to move. With one large hand on her waist and the other still gripping her rear, he was able to help her along with some movements of his own. Thrusting in time with each other; same pace, same force, same purpose only reinforced his belief that together, they could do great things.

 

Hux grabbed a handful of his wife’s dark locks and pulled her neck down close to him, still keeping hold of her as he lathered every inch of that pale skin with feathery kisses and more dominating bites. He could hear her better like this, feel the way her throat moved with every pleasured moan and pained whimper. And he got plenty of each of those. As the pressure mounted, the pair seemed to collide against each other, determined to drive the other with friction and the barrage of aggressive manoeuvres of giving and taking. Despite the closeness, their lips never met. His were busy at her neck and throat while her forehead was buried in her arm with her head angled so he could access her.

 

When she tensed in his lap but fought to keep moving, he knew what was coming. He wasn’t far from it himself. Still buried deep, he continued to push and she still rode him to the best of her ability but the way she whined in his ear made him want to last the night.

 

“Do it…..” He encouraged her quietly, kicking his thrusts up in both speed and force which made her tighten around him. “Let go.” _Taking a different sort of interest._ She clung to him in absolute desperation as she tried her best to prolong the incredible feeling gripping her entire body that originated where her body met his. Brendol’s teeth gritted in duality of ecstasy and effort as she almost went limp in his arms after one more cry of euphoria and delirium.

 

She remained taut enough for him to seek relief and he did not long after her. One more hard pant and strong thrust saw him empty himself into the waiting female and only then did she fully relax. He held her for a moment while they both caught their breath, still physically joined. Would this be a conception? It would be a few weeks before they knew and even then, he didn’t think she’d be keen to tell him if it was; knowing it would mean she had lost. When she felt it was becoming too much, she shifted and that was his cue to let her go though he did so reluctantly.

 

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked with mild protest as she got off his lap and adjusted her nightdress.

“Bed, Brendol.” Was her testy answer. “That thing in the room you’re supposed to stay away from?”

“I thought-“

“You thought wrong. I said we continue as we were. I’m not your cuddle bunny. If that’s what you want, pay one of the staff extra.” That was her answer so she returned to her room where Nero was waiting for her. Once again; he sat alone, annoyed and embarrassed.


	7. Jedi Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol learns a bit more about Nero. He doesn't like what he finds out. Tragedy strikes for Kendra and her husband can't understand why she keeps putting him off.

Over the past few weeks, their meetings had been regular in various parts of the house (and twice in the garden) though her bedroom was still off limits. Nor had they ever ventured to his. That seemed to be a mutual respect (sort of) of each other’s spaces. She always left him almost straight away after they finished. That daunting smirk was constantly the same before and after, they had different reasons for this. He was trying to conceive. She wasn’t. She had ulterior motives and making him crumble into desperation was the very least of these.

 

He watched her carefully as the weeks went on but there was seemingly nothing. Her stomach remained the same, he had heard no reports of her being sick or requesting specific foods. It seemed there was nothing to tell. Not that she would until she was sure she couldn’t hide it any more. And even at that, when they were….. _intimate,_ he found himself being especially intrigued by her stomach. He’d touch it, line it with his nose, brush it with his lips until she snapped at him to stop. The only thing she was interested in raising was that bloody Vornskr.

 

Allergies are not pleasant. No one knew that better than General Brendol Hux Junior. Since his wife had insisted on keeping that vile creature with her at all times, he’d been forced onto medication on a daily basis. The black hairs everywhere made his eyes sore and his throat close without it but this was about keeping Kendra happy. Sometimes, he got the impression that she was purposely leaving the hairs around the villa. Curiosity got the better of him.

 

His father in law had advised him to take an interest and to start with the Vornskr. He had been calm and collected about it so Brendol didn’t worry too much. However, when he actually found a data file for the animal, he started to worry. A lot. Brendol sat in his room with the data pad; jaw hanging and eyes wide. _She had brought one of these into his house?! She coddled it like a child?!_ It would grow to a height of nearly a metre. That would easily come up past her hip.

 

From tip of the nose to the tip of the _venomous_ tail was documented at over two metres. The Vornskr he now knew to be called Nero (when fully grown) would have paws bigger than the holopad he held, his ears would be pointed and he would lose more or less all of his fur for a dark, leathery kind of coat instead that barely stretched over the obvious skeleton and muscles. The claws and teeth alone were enough to fret him; from looking at the image in the file, one of these could easily overpower and kill a grown man. Which Brendol happened to be.

 

A side note mentioned that there were such things as dwarf Vornskr that people often kept as pets but he doubted Kendra would accept a watered down version. The dwarves were smaller and easier to train than a full Vornskr; but anytime he saw the little beast (he seemed to get bigger every day and was carried less and less), he was either curled up with Kendra or she was reinforcing some sort of training. She clearly knew what she was doing. According to the timeline on the database, Kendra and Nero were in the middle of an important bonding stage. When he was fully grown and if they connected correctly; that brute would answer to no one but her.

 

That put him on edge. Upon the death of a master, the Vornskr would seek out a worthy blood relative as their new master instead. There was something else though, something that caught his eye. The Force. These creatures could use it. They had been trained to track, hunt and kill Jedi and Force users and even seemed to do so in their natural habitat. They appeared to stem the flow of it to the Force users and attack as if they were simply another animal. It made sense. She was concerned about the possible return of Kylo Ren and so took steps to ensure he could not harm her. It was genius really, he’d give her that.

 

 

Brendol was awoken one morning by a horrific shriek tearing through every wing of the house. He got up out of curiosity, dressed quickly and ventured out into the hallway. Staff scurried past him; they were all either worried or petrified. They all hurried in one direction: Kendra’s chambers. Stealthily, he followed them undetected in whatever pandemonium had occurred. He was cut off before he could reach her bedroom door.

 

“I’m going to need you to stay out here, sir.” One of the older female staff members told him staunchly and facing him without fear of repercussion. He couldn’t remember her role but she was a strict and stout with an obvious unwavering loyalty to Kendra. One or two of the younger female staff ducked in past her; in that gap, Brendol tried to look into the room but this woman remained in his way.

“What’s wrong with her?!” He demanded, able to hear Kendra now. He didn’t think the day would ever come when he’d hear her cry. Let alone the heaving sobs he could hear now.  

“Her mother died last night, we were sent word only a few moments ago.” It was stated matter of factly but he knew that when it would come to comforting his wife, she would be completely different.

“I want to see her.” He tried to be forceful but this woman was intimidating.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We were given orders that you were to be kept from her until she was ready.”

“From who?! Her?!”

“No, sir. She’s in no condition. They were given by her brother in the transmission. So, if you would be so kind.”

 

Brendol waited for most of the day to be sent for. He paced the floor of his room, the sound of her crying echoed in his head. By the late evening, he had given up. No one was coming for him. He ate alone then took a glass of whiskey in the reception room next door. He didn’t feel guilty for initially assuming that Kendra’s upset had been her reaction to finding out she was pregnant. But that seemed to be all he thought about anymore. He thought about the situation at hand. Gods knew when he would be able to see her though she would probably use this as an excuse to abstain for a while.

 

He had never seen her mother, not even on his and Kendra’s wedding day. Romhain had casually explained this was because she didn’t agree with her only daughter and youngest child being sold off to the First Order. In addition to that and unknown to Romhain, Kendra and her mother had spoken privately beforehand and the younger female requested her mother not to attend. It would be too upsetting for both of them. No doubt if she had been present, things might have gone differently. And who did her brother think he was barring him from his own wife?!

 

Three days passed before he was allowed to see her. She sent someone for him to be brought to the small parlour beside her bedroom. It seemed she hadn’t moved from the security of her quarters since she received the devastating news. Kendra sat with her back to him when he entered. A tray of tea on the low table in front of her was relatively untouched. It seemed she hadn’t been eating a whole lot either.

 

Nero sat at her side and watched Brendol suspiciously as he took the seat opposite her. He was no longer the little ball of black fluff he had been but he was starting to develop into the horrifying image the General had seen on the database. She gave him no greeting, she only decided on a cup of tea when he sat down and making it was something to do. There was silence for a few moments. If one of them didn’t say something soon….

 

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” He offered diplomatically, not sure what else to say.

“ _No, you’re not.”_ She replied hoarsely, the result of three days of crying non-stop. He didn’t correct her, merely folded his hands into his lap and tried not to look at the Vornskr. There was nothing to correct.

“You wanted to see me.” She stared down at the cup in her hands; everything was still a blur, still hazy.

 

 _“I’m going home for a few days. I’m leaving in the morning.”_ What else could he expect? A slow, understanding nod followed her words.

“Would you like some company?”

 _“_ _Not from you, no.”_  This was what he’d been worried about. Every time he would make an effort, she would shut him down.

“I’d rather accompany you.”

“ _What you’d rather is not my priority.”_ She informed him with less scathing in her tone than she would have liked. She took a sip of the tea and found she had been too heavy handed with the sugar. _“Nero is coming with me; he’s all the company I need.”_

“Kendra, it would be beneficial if-“

“ ** _I SAID NO!!_** _”_ Her nostrils flared and glowering at him aggressively from her chair, Nero started to shift as if readying himself. _“I am grieving. Do you understand that?”_  It was a low, dangerous hiss; even more so with the hoarseness that had become part of her voice temporarily. He didn’t answer. _“Put your line to the back of your head for once. We will resume when I am ready and willing. Not before then. Is that clear?”_

“Yes.”

_“If you don’t like it, find someone else.”_

“I don’t want anyone else.” Kendra’s eyes narrowed into a disgusted stare.

_“_ _What the hell is wrong with you? What is this twisted obsession you have with a woman who detests you?”_

“You’re my wife.”

_“So I’ve been told. I wasn’t consulted on the matter but that’s another story. It doesn’t answer my question.”_

“You’re strong, you’re vicious, you’re beautiful. What else could I want in the mother of my children?! At my side ahead of the new Empire?!”

 _“Oh for goodness sake!”_ She breathed with impatience and a toiled roll of her eyes. _“Brendol, I’m not entertaining your pipedreams now. You are not to go to Aargau.”_  

“But-“ 

_“It's not open for discussion. Get out.”_


	8. Most Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendra remembers her mother and the advice she gave her on her wedding day. The Varnetts are not a pleasant bunch and Brendol learns that the hard way.

_“I don’t want to do this….”_

_“I know, darling. Dry your eyes; you’ll ruin your make up.” Kendra felt the gentle scratch of a tissue brushing under her eyes, guided by an older woman with dark, greying hair, brown eyes and kind face._

_“It’s not fair…”_

_“It’s not but there’s nothing we can do.” The unwilling bride looked up at her mother with her eyes still watering and her lip still quivering. She had always been so confident, so strong, so commanding. And now, just twenty three years old and here she was crumbling like a child. The gown was beautiful; it hugged her just right and she would need that comfort when it came to facing him. It added to the ferocious beauty she already had but she hated what it represented. Sabina shuffled onto the seat big enough for two beside her only daughter, draping a comforting arm around her shoulder._

_“Look at you.” She breathed, directing Kendra’s gaze to her own reflection in the vanity table mirror. All she saw were slightly red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t think you realize what’s going on here, my love.” Kendra looked from her double opposite her to the female beside her. The wordless curiosity, however dire, was enough for Sabina to continue._

_“He. Chose. You. I’m not happy about it. Neither are you. But you have a power that you don’t understand. A power over him. You are not what a man like him usually chooses. You are not meek and servile and eager to please him. You are what a man like him usually craves while his wife bears his children. You are what he begins to wish he had chosen. You’re striking, you’re relentless, you’re fierce. This is about alliances, my angel. This is about greed, it’s about ego. You can behave whatever way you want, demand what you want and he will bend to you. It will take time, Kendra but hold fast.”_

 

_Sabina paused and rearranged one of her daughter’s curls._

_"_ _There will come a time when you will have a decision to make and not only for yourself. Bide your time, my darling. Toy with him if you wish; train him, torture him, belittle him. He will come running back. But never do anything you don’t want to do. It doesn’t matter what anyone says.” Another pause as she got to her feet and crossed the room to a drawer. A piece of velvet cloth covered a box containing an unusual wedding present. Not jewels or perfume or clothes._

_“_ _I don’t want you to be there.” Kendra summoned the strength to say it and hoping her mother would understand. “I won’t be able to hold my composure if you are.” Sabina knew that that meant and as much as it stung, she would respect it. Her daughter had her reasons. Regardless, she handed over the velvet covered box; the contents would not leave Kendra’s person for the next three years and beyond._

_”If that’s what you want, little one. Give him hell, Kendra. Make sure he knows who holds the reigns.”_

She scarcely saw her mother a handful of times after that. Kendra had drifted off into her own thoughts rather than listening to her father’s senseless droning. There was no feeling to what he said, no substance to his ‘mourning’. She wanted to remember her mother the way she had been. Protective and understanding of her daughter. He couldn’t even tear himself away from work, they had gathered in his office in the villa, still speaking though Kendra wasn’t listening.

 

At least he hadn’t dragged them to the bank. Romhain sat on one side of the desk facing his four children; one looked significantly more devastated than the others. Nero sat in front of her with his head in her lap; stroking the animal almost absentmindedly as a mutual comfort to both of them. Cole, the brother who had sent the transmission sat to her left, the one who had instructed his brother in law was to be kept from his sister until she was ready (it had been one of the few times he’d shown any sort of consideration). The other two who had little to no time for her sat to her right.

 

When Nero started to get angsty; opening his eyes and growling lightly, she didn’t take much notice. She was still in a world of her own it was only when her father faltered and her brother started to snicker beside her that she zoned back in. Romhain’s eyes met hers with confusion (that she now shared) and then looked past her.

 

“I wasn’t aware we were expecting you, General?” Kendra froze. _What?!_ Cole’s hand and covered his eyes and forehead with it as he subsided into quiet heaves of laughter. He got a filthy look from his baby sister before she turned in her seat and there he was in all his redheaded glory. 

 _"What the hell are you doing here?!”_  She didn’t give him time to respond. _“_ _What did I tell you?!”_  

“He really is obsessed with you, Kendra!” Cole practically wept through his laughter at his brother in law’s unannounced appearance. “Maybe you should leave off on training Nero and start training your husband instead!”

 _“ **Shut. Up. Cole!”** _ Kendra snarled, dragging her attention to her brother for a split second then back to Hux before getting to her feet and strode past him from the room. Without order or command, Nero followed her. Likewise, so did Brendol.

 

 _“LEAVE ME ALONE!!”_ She spat at him as he trailed the corridor after her. He didn’t know where they were going or rather to where he was following her. Instinctively, she headed for the sanctuary of her bedroom. The room she had dressed in before her wedding, where her mother had presented her with the dagger and where Brendol had taken her on their first night as husband and wife. He’d had her several times since then but that night would always stay with him.

 

Not for the act itself (that had been unnerving and distressing for him, he couldn’t imagine what it had been for her) but for the way she had been so vulnerable, a very uncharacteristic quality for her. She was aware he was following her to her room but he would not be receiving the entertainment he’d become accustomed to. She was not equipped nor prepared for it, physically or emotionally. When they entered the room, he had the grace to close the door behind him.

 

“Kendra-“

“ ** _NO!!”_** She snapped suddenly, rounding on him with absolute fury dominating those beautiful features. “ ** _I told you to stay on Arkanis!! I told you I didn’t want you here!!_** ”

“I needed to make sure you-“

“ ** _IT’S NONE OF YOUR CONCERN!!”_**

“If you would just-“

 ** _“_** _What the hell is wrong with you?!”_  She asked incredulously with a shake of her head and never taking her eyes off him; like she had done before she left for Aargau. “ _What the hell is this disturbing infatuation you have?! It’s sick! It’s weird! It’s abnormal!”_

 

He didn’t really have an answer. He didn’t know why she obsessed him. Maybe it was the way she treated him, she wasn’t reverent of him like everyone else was. She didn’t fear him like everyone else did. She treated him with disgust and disdain; even when they had sex, she was still reviled by him. She took her own pleasure from it, let him finish (he didn’t know why) then shoved him off and left.

 

Did he love her? No. He was fascinated with her. Even three years on, there was something about her that hadn’t diminished; he was just braver in acting upon it now than when he married her. That fascination, more often than not, had turned into a crushing desperation; one fuelled even more by the recent desire for a line. Brendol opened his mouth to defend himself but he was cut off when the bedroom door opened and the brother who had spoken about training him popped his head in.

 

“Oh good, I’m not interrupting anything. Dinner, lovebirds.” He was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. Kendra restrained an angry twitch then set off after Cole with Nero hot on her heels. She didn’t know or care if Brendol had come after her; judging by his appearance in the dining room not long after her, it seemed he had.

 

Just like when Romhain had come to visit, dinner was all kinds of terrible. It had been bad then but with the addition of her three brothers; one who was dead set on humiliating her as much as possible and the other two (twins) who mercifully just preferred to watch the carnage as the oldest and the youngest locked horns across the dinner table. Romhain had taken the head of the table; Cole to his left, Osric and Cyprian sat next to their brother. Kendra sat to her father’s right, Brendol beside her and Nero obediently under the table.

 

“This is nice.” Romhain broke the quiet cheerfully as if he hadn’t just cremated his wife earlier that day. “All my children and my son in law around the one table. How wonderful. Kendra? Any…. News?” She knew what he was looking for and she was happy to say he wasn’t getting it.

“No.” It was blunt and forceful, an indication that she wanted to get on with her meal. She would not be so lucky.

“Well now, that’s a pity. General, I thought we had this discussion?” Brendol cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted in his seat. There were too many knives on the table and he was too close to Kendra.

 

“I didn’t know you were trying, Kendra!” Cole piped up with that smile he knew she hated. Those bright blue eyes heightened and narrowed into a nasty stare at her eldest brother (who was actually older than Brendol). 

“Don’t push me, Cole.” She warned dangerously but he was either too foolish or too daring to heed the warning.

“Is it not working? General? She _is_ cooperating, isn’t she?” Brendol’s ears pinked but he didn’t answer. Kendra took care of that.

“ _Castana di vashana abolat_.” She hissed at him in an unfamiliar tongue, fork still in hand but it just seemed to hang there.

“ _Tambarta alcath suverten. Ontha loprath hendawque?”_ Was his smirk driven response in the same language.

“ _Keesa du valay, Cole!”_ Was seethed aggressively across the table but it only served to stretch Cole’s smirk wider.

“Language, Kendra.” Romhain reprimanded her lazily, taking a hefty mouthful of his beloved Whyren's Reserve. Cole was about to respond but his father cut him off lightly with a wave of his hand until he swallowed the whiskey. “That’s enough. Both of you. Squabbling like children in Aargauese in front of company; it’s ridiculous.” The eldest and youngest settled on glowering across at each other. Brendol didn’t know what that exchange was but everyone else at the table did. It seemed to be the only thing that made the twins look mildly interested since they sat down.

 

“He’s right though, Kendra.” Romhain spoke casually which made his daughter look to him with outrage. “It’s been three years. The General is waiting.” She couldn’t take anymore. With her napkin tossed to her plate, she didn’t even ask to be excused. The female stormed from the room like a beautiful hurricane with her head held high and her precious Vornskr scarpering after her. Brendol went to get up but his father in law was faster.

 

“Sit. Down.” He told the redhead sharply, much to Cole’s amusement. “Did she ask you to come here?” Romhain quizzed him harshly with his glass in hand as Brendol grudgingly took his seat again.

“No….” Was Hux’s honest answer.

“Did she express the need for company?”

“No….” #

“There’s your problem.” The eldest man’s remark was snide; it seemed there was more to Kendra’s disdain for her father than just giving her away (though that was a large portion of it.)

“You told me to take an interest!” Brendol protested, ignoring Cole’s growing delight at the scrutiny he and Kendra had been put under.

“I told you to take an interest; she already has a dog that follows her, Brendol, she doesn’t need two!” Romhain was starting to lose his cool. “Be a man, have some self-respect! How do you think it’s going to work if she thinks she can walk all over you?!” When he’d met the General three years ago, their interests had been purely financial. Romhain Varnett would fund as much as he could without being noticed; in return he expected to be highly rewarded when the new Empire rose.

 

Imagine Romhain’s delight when the General visited the villa to finalize details and would have his attention diverted sporadically whenever that dark haired, blue eyed vision walked across the doorway or could heard speaking to staff. It roused Romhain’s interest even more when he was asked about her. It sent the wheels in his mind turning. It would cement his position in the new Empire as the father in law of the young General at the forefront. Even more so as a direct blood relative, the grandfather of said General’s children. He made the offer as a side note. Brendol accepted. Romhain’s wife almost left him. Kendra trashed her bedroom. That was that.

 

“You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Cole inquired nonchalantly; his own glass of the costly reserve in hand, the question directed at his brother in law. Hux stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“My sister. What the hell were you thinking?”

“ ** _Cole._** ” The ominous rumble from the head of the table was barely acknowledged.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business!” Brendol bristled indignantly, refusing to be questioned by a man he barely knew, the one he suspected had barred him from his own wife at such a terrible time.

 

“I understand completely; she’s stunning. It’s been relayed to me several times. Plenty of friends and colleagues of mine would give their left arm to be where you are now.” Cole continued as if it wasn’t an insulting conversation. “But…. She’s a psychopath! I mean, was it a lapse in judgement? Were you drunk? What?”

“I refuse to be examined on this!” Hux rebuked Cole’s questions and kicked back his chair. “And I won’t have her spoken about that way!” His feet carried him with purpose to the door. He just needed to figure out how to get back to Kendra’s room. That barrage hadn’t been easy. He knew she was sensitive now and they had probably made it worse.

 

When he found her, she was sat on the seat build into her windowsill. The window was open, cold air brushing across her delicate frame as she simply stared out. She was pulled out of her daze when he crossed the room and closed the window.

 

“You’re freezing.” He deducted with mild disapproval when his hand graced her arm.

“I’m fine.” She replied in a defeated murmur but he wasn’t convinced.

“Kendra, let me take you home.” He expected to be fought, to be attacked, to be told in several different ways to go away. To his surprise and relief, she conceded listlessly.

“Alright.”

 

They were back on Arkanis within two hours. He made sure to get them there quickly. He led her into the reception room, sat her in front of the fire and handed her a glass of whiskey. She was quiet. Too quiet.

 

“Drink it. It will warm you up.” He told her, trying not to sound too commanding as he took his own seat with his own glass across from her, watching her intently. Any time she looked up, he was still watching her. It was impossible to tell what was going on in his head. He had spent so much time around Kylo Ren that he was a master of masking his emotions and his expressions.

 

"And what did you make of my family all in one place?" Kendra's exquisite accent brought him out of himself.

"Those twins are unnerving. Cole is a pig who is not as funny as he thinks he is and your father is as painful as ever." Maybe he had said the wrong thing. The way she wordlessly regarded him made him wonder.

"At least we agree on something." She noted with something akin to a bitter dryness, lifting her glass somewhat towards him in a not so begrudging salute.They drank in silence for what seemed like hours after that when Brendol shuffled to his feet. His wife’s space was no longer her own. “What are you doing?”

“I want to try something.” He answered, setting his glass down on the table between them before leaning down and pushing his lips to hers with a moderate urgency. She froze for the second time that night. He considered stopping but before he could, she seemed to have made a choice within herself and by some strange miracle, she started to return it. Whether it was the alcohol, the raw ache of mourning, a longing for comfort, an ease from dealing with her family or all those things combined; neither of them knew but going with it seemed to be a favourable option just then.  It was unexpected, he would admit that.

 

He carried her to bed; his bed. Both had undressed slowly, more sensuously than they realized and before they knew it; something very different from the norm was taking place. Tender, considerate thrusts rocked into the female; they panted in unison, groaned together, their lips barely separated. When they did; they peppered warm, placid kisses along her jawline and up and down her neck when she tilted her head back for him.

 

How was he even capable of this? She didn’t know but she wasn’t about to argue the point just yet. His large hands wandered, one settled on the pillow beside her head, the other cradling her hip where his thumb brushed the supple flesh of her belly, the intrigue rising again. _Maybe tonight…._ Hux’s hips picked up their pace slightly to the grateful sigh from his wife, wrapping a leg around his waist to push him in further. They climbed simultaneously, hearts hammering and breathing laboured, the usual race to finish first didn’t seem to apply tonight.

 

Kendra clung to him as she peaked, relieving a quiet sob of pleasure into his shoulder. The way she squeezed in around him internally brought him to his own completion as he released and let every drop go. He finally relaxed and buried his face fully in her neck, taking in that scent that intoxicated and possessed him. Brendol eased himself down onto the mattress but pulled her with him to adjust her at his side and keep her there with him. She was already gone; lost to exhaustion. He soon followed.


	9. Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendra wakes up from that night and Brendol gets recalled to the Finalizer but has a disagreement with Nero before he's due to leave.

Kendra was in that place between waking up and still asleep. She winced delicately as she came around to the sun stinging her eyes, still being too immersed in slumber to remember that her bedroom did not face the sunrise. She didn’t realize that the blankets were too heavy, heavier than her own since she easily became overheated at night. What brought Kendra out of her dreamlike state though was a weight shifting beside her. Big blue eyes snapped open and she found herself incapable of moving. Mainly because it would mean disturbing the arm around her waist.

 

Her gaze slowly roved the room and with confusion, it sunk in that this wasn’t her room. With a subtle peek under the covers, Kendra discovered she was naked. The female’s heart started to race as she sat bolt upright; both her hands tented together over her mouth and nose, eyes wide with utter horror, concern of moving his arm forgotten. It didn’t seem to faze him. It just kind of flopped but he didn’t move. _Is he dead?_  She asked herself, hopeful as she looked over his (also) naked form. _Oh Gods, please be dead._ No such luck. A noticeable snore and the light heaving of his pale, freckled chest told her that her husband was in fact still alive. Fully in her senses now, the night started to return to her and her panic heightened. _It would be so easy to just take the pillow…._   

 

No. She _needed_ to get out. She couldn’t risk this. He couldn’t win, he couldn’t! Scrambling out of the bed, she tried to be as quiet but as quick as possible. Continuous paranoid glances were snatched from over her shoulder to ensure he didn’t wake as she tried to dress as minimally but respectably as she could to walk through the house. The rest of her clothes and shoes were grabbed and she tore from the room before he could rouse to stop her.

 

Kendra hurried along the hallway in her dress from the night previous but it was loose and not properly secured.

 

“ _Nana!_ ” She told the first of her staff that she came across with clear hysteria in her voice. “ _Get Nana! I need Nana_!” Kendra’s bedroom door was shoved open then slammed behind her, her clothes dropped and it took her a few seconds for her to remember what she had to do. Wardrobe. The box was grabbed as was a glass of water from the jug on the windowsill. One scoop of the green power was emptied into the glass which she stirred frantically with her finger before taking it all in frenzied gulps as if it would spare her life. It was the reason she had always left him straight away. The taste assaulted her tongue and she gagged as she always did but this was urgent.

 

“I knew this would happen!” The voice behind her made her sigh and turn. The staunch older woman who had kept Brendol from her when her mother died was just closing the door behind her. “You were playing with fire, Kendra; you were going to get burned!”

“ _Will it work?!_ ” She asked, terror eating at her and close to tears.

“How long?”

“ _I don’t know! I fell asleep…. Maybe eight hours?!”_ The look on Nana’s face was enough. “ _Nana, please tell me it’ll work?!_ ”

“If you left it eight hours, it might not. Stay away from him. Keep taking it for the next few days but nothing is guaranteed.” So there _was_ some hope. As if her legs would no longer support her weight, Kendra shakily crossed the room and perched herself on her bed. “ _If he asks, I’m ill_.”

“He saw you last night; he knows you’re perfectly fine.”

“ _Nana, please_. _Tell him the food was too rich and the whiskey didn’t help._ ”

“He’ll smell a rat.”

“ _Let him smell it! I don’t want to see him!_ ”

 

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” She answered softly as though distracted, trying to ignore the shadow of concern in his voice. He’d found her in the garden and insisted on walking with her, she couldn’t exactly stop him. The clear weather was something to be taken advantage of on Arkanis. The fresh air might clear her mind but instead it left her with unnerving thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the distraction of her husband or not.

“You’re still quite pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

“Not like this.” He wasn’t supposed to notice those things. She wasn’t about to argue the point. The reason she was pale was because she was living in fear for the past few days. Naturally, she couldn’t tell him that. Her first day of venturing out and he’d cornered her in the garden; as if he could smell her.

“Nana said the food didn’t agree with you?”

“Yes, the tortuce was too much for me. I forgot how rich it is on Aargau.” Concerned and all as Brendol was, he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Please be honest with me….” He began after clearing his throat in a business like fashion to convey the seriousness of his question. “Are you pregnant?” Kendra’s eyes rolled even though she felt an internal grab of dread; she had to behave as if everything was normal.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn it, I’m sure!” That wasn’t entirely true. She was afraid to find out. In her own mind, she wasn’t pregnant. Her womb might have proved differently.

 

“What are you going to do?” Nana’s arms were folded as she looked over the younger female lying curled up in the bed, tears streaming down her pretty, pale face.

“What can I do?” Kendra asked quietly, unable and unwilling to drag herself out of the tangle of sheets. “He’s won. My father’s won. Isn’t that the main reason I was brought to this godsforsaken planet? So he could have a line and my father can dig his heels into the new Empire through the General’s children?”

 

“This is a man’s game, Kendra.” Nana reminded her tartly. She’d warned her and warned her and warned her. Even if it was only a look when Kendra left a room fixing her tousled hair with her husband still panting inside. “It doesn’t matter how beautiful, how striking and how appealing you are. You can be as vicious, ferocious and as bitchy as you want but they will **always** get what they want. And your father and husband just did.”

 

Nana left, leaving Kendra to wallow in her own sorrow. Six weeks. It had been confirmed. There was a small swelling on her already curvy stomach but it wasn’t all that noticeable unless it was purposely being looked for. Her nightdress had been pulled up over her stomach and she stared at it. This was it. This was her fate, what she’d been brought here to do: Breed. She couldn’t tell him. She needed to wait as long as she possibly could. Maybe she could wait until she started to show and he could figure it out for himself.

 

Two and a half months. She had accepted it now and with each passing day, she became less and less adverse to the idea. When she woke in the morning, she’d give it a light stroke and it evolved from there. She was getting more and more swollen in a short space of time. This wasn’t right. Something was definitely wrong. Brendol sent for a medic from the Academy under the impression his wife was suffering from extreme menstrual cramps.

 

In that area of things, Brendol (like most men), didn’t want to know but was concerned enough to comply when she asked for a medic. Kendra lay in bed with her nightdress pulled up around her to allow access to the alarming swelling. The droid accompanying the (female) medic scanned over her stomach as Kendra filled in the medic, reiterating how important it was that discretion about _everything_ was encouraged. The large red eyes of the Vornskr on the bed beside her were enough to urge the medic to reassure her that the utmost secrecy would be exercised.

 

“Everything seems to be fine.” The medic told her with a slight twinge of confusion, unsure why the female was so worried. “Both are fine. A bit small but both fine.” Kendra was quiet for a moment.

“ _What do you mean **both**?” _

“You’re aware you’re expecting twins, aren’t you?” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that but it explained everything. It explained why she was getting bigger, faster. There were two of them in there. No wonder she was constantly exhausted and hungry.

“I…. I wasn’t.”

“There you go.” When she left, Kendra was still reeling. She stared ahead with her hand on her stomach until she felt Nero nudge her hand aside to rest his head affectionately on where the bump was starting to grow. He was huge now. Not quite fully grown but still mighty. She’d been worried how he’d react to the pregnancy, how he’d cope with the prospect of a child (or two as it happened) but he was magnificent. He was protective, he was attentive, he was gentle.

“Twins, Nero.” She murmured when they were alone, stroking his head lightly as he lovingly nuzzled her stomach. “We’re having twins.”

 

“I’ve been summoned. I leave tomorrow.” He told her at dinner that night, his concern had mounted since the appearance of a medic. _If only he knew!_  

“Oh?” The loose fitting day dresses were not uncommon and were extremely useful for covering her _little_ secret that seemed to get bigger every day. Nero had always been close to her side but now he was clung to her and she had to ensure he was not affectionate with the bump while Brendol was around. Like now. She looked up from her soup, trying to appear disinterested but relief and delight poked at her. “

How long will you be gone?” He was visibly fretful. As far as he was concerned, he had made significant progress with his wife. Yes, she had been somewhat distant since they spent the night together but he put that down to her being unwell and mourning her mother.

“As of yet, I don’t know.” He confessed, the thought of being away alone was distressing enough. “We’re restarting the Stormtrooper program from scratch. We’ve been surveying families; we have a base to start from. Finalizer has been completely revamped but there’s still a lot of overseeing to be done. It could be weeks, it could be months, it could be a year.” It sickened her to think of children being taken from their families. Not only was he leaving soon but he would be away for a decent length of time. With any luck, he’d be gone until after the children were born and she’d deal with that when he came back. If he came back.

 

They finished their meal in almost silence. He had glanced up incessantly throughout while she kept her eyes on her plate, occasionally and subtly pushing Nero’s nose away from her stomach. Tonight would be the last opportunity for a while. With the intention of going up to her quarters for a bath but the hand wrapped around her upper arm had other ideas.

 

“Come to bed.” There was a touch of desperation and need to it, his thumb stroking her arm as he held her. She had no intention of it.

“Let go of my arm.” It was stated calmly; ordinarily she would have turned straight away with a vicious response but she was thinking of her children and what that unnecessary stress would do to them.

“ _Please come to bed_.” The warning growls from her side should have been enough for him to abandon the venture but it seemed he had tunnel vision and it was only his wife at the end of it.

“Get off, Brendol. Now. If you don’t want to go back to the Finalizer with puncture wounds, I’d let go.” Instead his grip tightened.

 _“Kendra-“_ Her eyes slipped sideways just in time to see the black beast pounce. Conveniently, Nero had chosen the arm holding Kendra to snatch so she stepped back and watched emotionlessly as her husband was dragged to the floor. The thick material of his greatcoat had cushioned most of the damage from Nero’s still developing teeth but it didn’t stop him roaring in pain. He tried to keep as still as possible to minimize the damage but the monster’s teeth dug in regardless. The dark colour of the coat made it difficult to see if Nero had broken the skin but the agony and the warm wet told Hux that he had.

 

**_“CALL HIM OFF!!!”_ **

“Are you going to do as you’re told?” She asked casually with an arched eyebrow; Gods, that scene was satisfying.

 ** _“KENDRA!!”_** He choked through the pain, feeling the blood running and soaking into his tunic under the greatcoat.

“Nero.” Immediately, he was released and returned to her side, daring Brendol to move again as the human male started to shed the coat, bordering on panic to check the wound.

“Did he break the skin?” Needless to say, she was unmoved by the whole thing. Quite pleased with it if anything.

“YES!”

“Good. You’ll think twice before you do that again. Goodnight, Brendol.” She turned on her (slightly aching) heel and left with Nero trailing behind her.


	10. Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol discovers Kendra's secret from an unsavory source. When he confronts her, she acts out.

Brendol did not see his wife the next morning. Well, not properly. When he looked up as he was about to board; he saw her smirking with satisfaction from her bedroom balcony, stroking the head of the beast that had attacked him with one hand and a cup of tea in the other. She did so with confidence. The thick, stone railing of the balcony came almost up to her chest; he would be unable to see the bump.

 

Seeing them both; he forced himself not to touch the bandage under the sleeve of his greatcoat (a spare one, not as grand as the one he usually wore but the thought of wearing something he had bled into and Nero had salivated on didn’t appeal to him) and continued up the ramp, fighting the urge to look back. He didn’t know when he’d see her again. The nature of his work meant he was away for long periods of time with constant present danger; it had been one of the reasons he was hesitant to take a wife in the first place. It wouldn’t have been fair since (to him) a wife was a delicate creature that would have crumbled without him.

 

Then he met Kendra. Not only did she prefer to be away from him but she excelled at it. The last three years (nearly four) had seen Kendra strive in his almost constant absence. If only Brendol knew what he was walking away from. If only he knew what she (and every staff member in the house) was keeping from him. He would probably would have jogged down that ramp, clung to her legs and refuse to let go. Or at least that’s what her cruel, sadistic imagination conjured up.

 

Finalizer may not have looked the same but it felt the same. The same orderly, regimental hub of dedication it had always been. They needed to stay under the radar until such time as the Stormtroopers could be rebuilt and the former glory of the First Order could rise again. Thankfully; scouts had come across some older, voluntary recruits willing to pledge themselves while younger Troopers were being raised, trained and indoctrinated. Captain Phasma had stayed a few days after their initial arrival at the villa to recuperate from the trauma of the trash compactor then went on her way to try and find traces of the First Order while her General spent his nights inside his wife; playing with the fire that was Kendra Varnett.

 

She didn’t like her. From the moment the Captain had seen her, she knew she was trouble and knew Hux could see it but chose to ignore it. The disrespect alone was enough to make Phasma’s blood boil and it was clear the younger female had very dark intentions. And yet, he flirted with the danger. If the murmurs of the staff were anything to go by on the night of their arrival, Phasma had to hope that her General would be sensible enough to correct his judgement. It was not to be.

“Welcome back, Sir.” Phasma regarded her General with the utmost respect, unlike the bitch he had left back on Arkanis.

“Thank you, Captain.” He sounded strained; the bump in the sleeve of his coat concerned her even more.

“Sir….Are you alright?” The question may have been a bit too bold. That was her reaction when he halted his stride and turned on his heel to double back to her. It was probably one of the only times she saw him on board without his hands clasped behind his back, the discomfort of the stretch was too much for him.

 

He had crawled from the dining room with a cotton napkin securing the jagged, pumping fang marks on his arm and hoped he could bandage it himself without passing out. The wound was still angry and on his way back to Finalizer, he had scrutinized every database on Vornskr bites. While nasty and deep (even from an immature one like Nero), there was no poison or any other substances he had to worry about. Simply keeping it clean and covered would heal it but it would scar; a constant reminder from Nero that Kendra was not his to command.

 

“Vornskr bite.” He gestured to his arm with the opposite hand, knowing and trusting Phasma well enough to have confidence that she would be discreet.

“A Vornskr?” The chrome Trooper repeated, knowing of the animal in question.

“But where….?”

“My wife has one. Vile beast. When I return to the villa, it will be removed. I don’t care if I have to kill it or stun it and send it away; this is the last straw. I refuse to share my home with it.”

“But…. Why a Vornskr?”

“She knows I’m allergic to anything canine.” One of the perks to being back on the Finalizer was not having to rely on that infernal medication any more. “That and Ren didn’t exactly behave with the most eloquence when he woke up.”

“Sir?”

“I caught him trying to force his way into her mind and do Gods knows what to her. She got it to protect herself in case he ever made a reappearance. Not that she would admit it.” Phasma said nothing. So Kylo Ren had an interest in her too? “Thank you for your concern, Captain.”

 

The days turned into weeks and before Brendol knew it, he had been gone nearly two months. He had heard nothing on his own personal com from Kendra, not that he expected messages claiming to miss him or anything of the like. He assumed if there had been a development that he would have heard it by now. It seemed that wasn’t the case. The General stood on the bridge immersed in his own thoughts.

 

All was quiet; for now. It was their anniversary soon. Four years of broken, vicious, cruel marriage. And the poor bastard pined for her. He wanted her. He wanted her like the night he had brought her back from Aargau after the merciless onslaught of her brother and father. He’d woken up to disappointment when he found himself alone and kept from her all over again. He felt it was a time he should have been with her.

 

It was progress, immeasurable progress. Kissing her, (what he assumed was) making love to her, watching the peace in her face as she succumbed to slumber cuddled up to him, falling asleep with her in his arms…. His hand crept to the breast pocket of his tunic, it was kept there; his wedding ring. He didn’t wear it since it hindered his gloves and it had been left at the villa when he returned to Starkiller, prior to the explosion. However, he felt the need to bring it with him now and touch it from time to time, like a small comfort.  One of the new bridge staff spoke up, snatching Hux from his musings.

 

“General? We have a pending transmission, should I accept?” Hux turned, somewhat stunned which quickly turned to anger; assuming that incompetence had reared its head so early. Everything was supposed to have been completely re-routed!  

“We should be not be able to receive transmissions! There should only be on-board communications only! Get that technician; that fool, Matt! Where is the transmission coming from?!”

“Aargau, sir.” It could only be Romhain.

“I’ll take it in my office.”

 

 **“General!”** Hux rolled his eyes; typical of the older male to greet him like an old friend when he had scrutinized both him and his wife ruthlessly only a few months previously. He’d admit it was the best night of his life though.

“Romhain.” Brendol replied with less enthusiasm. “What can I do for you?”

**“I hear congratulations are in order?!”**

“Thank you, it was difficult but we got there eventually.”

**“Indeed! We were starting to get worried but better late than never, isn’t that right?”**

“Quite right. Drafting Stormtroopers is taking a little longer than I’d like but it’s a process we can’t rush.” Silence on the other end that was broken by raucous laughter. One was Romhain, the other Brendol recognized as Cole. The call was obviously being projected on loudspeaker as his was.

 **“Pardon us, Brendol. We’re a tad merry; we’ve just closed a big deal. But no, pleased and all as I am about the First Order gathering itself; I was referring to Kendra.”** The General paused, confused.

“What about her?” He could hear Cole snickering in the background and Romhain certainly sounded smug.

 **“My, General. You really should keep in contact with your wife! Nearly four years and she’s finally pregnant!”** Brendol froze, his thought process seeming to slow to nothing at the news. _Pregnant?_    **“Brendol? Brendol, are you there?”**

“Yes, yes, I’m here….” But he was only half listening. Maybe she didn’t know when he left; she would have told him, wouldn’t she? He felt a prick of anger; why did he have to hear it from Romhain who assumed he already knew? Why had he been so ignorant of his own child? When had it been conceived? “How far along?”

**“What was it, Cole? About four and a half months, I believe. Are you telling me you didn’t know about this, General?”**

“No…. I didn’t…..”

 **“So you didn’t know she’s expecting twins?”** Hux’s breath caught in his throat. _Twins?!_  This was too much, too overwhelming; all of it. He’d tried for months, striven and toiled and now it was finally a reality. He’d have the line he wanted.

“I…. I can’t believe this….” 

**“My recommendation would be to take some personal time as soon as you can. Despite the unfortunate incident with that brute she keeps with her. It’ll be nice to have some reputable grandchildren in the family and not the half breed mongrels Cole is constantly fighting off paternity suits for. Congratulations, General.”**

Being four and a half months pregnant was far more tiring than Kendra thought it would be; particularly with twins. A nap then maybe a bath followed by (a bigger than usual) lunch was the usual for the afternoon, maybe followed by another nap depending on how she felt. One hand rested on the now noticeable bump; there was no kicking just yet but she would not miss it, not when her hand didn’t seem to move.

 

If she was truthful, she was enjoying it so far. Yes, the morning sickness was a hindrance but she would take the good with the bad. Nero was just as protective and gentle as always, fawning over the bump at every opportunity. She could barely wait for him to experience a kick. Her usual day dress of silvery shimmersilk hugged the babies just tight enough to be comfortable. She had dreaded the thought of maternity wear but found it to be far more comfortable than she would have previously believed. Along with the blossoming bump, her chest had also grown significantly to prepare for feeding her children herself. Halfway through her tea and basking in the fire’s glow; she was interrupted by Nana.

 

“We have a problem.” The older woman told her bluntly and didn’t wait to receive an answer before turning and striding from the room. Kendra looked at Nero who looked back at her before hauling herself to her feet and following her out of the room. She chased Nana to the staircase leading down into the entrance hall with utter confusion.

“Nana?! What’s going on?! What’s the…. _Oh hell_ ….”

 

Down at the bottom of the stairs, he was waiting for her. Naturally, the first thing his eyes took in was the bump. Initially, it had crossed his mind that Cole and Romhain were teasing him; they had been drinking after all. One glance was enough to confirm everything his father in law had said.

 

“ _Happy Anniversary_.” He greeted her scathingly, nostrils flared and hands tucked behind his back. It seemed his arm was fully healed. Kendra looked to Nana.

“Was that today?”

“Mmmhmm.” Was the older woman’s reply though Kendra didn’t seem too bothered.

“ _When were you going to tell me, Kendra?!”_ His wife’s eyes flickered slightly to the side as her brows lifted; she was going to be truthful.

“Well, Brendol; I wasn’t. If you found out, so be it. And clearly you have so….. Well done, you.”

“ _Why did I have to hear it from your father?!”_   The female’s eyes narrowed down at her husband, something didn’t add up.

“What are you talking about?! My father doesn’t know!”

“ _So why did he contact me on Finalizer and tell me you were having_ twins?!” Well, there goes that surprise.

“You’re a liar!” Kendra spat with venom, aggression already rushing to the forefront. “My father doesn’t know! No one outside this godsforsaken house knows!” Brendol didn’t know much about pregnancy. He certainly didn’t know about hormones and what they could do to a woman. And what a woman could do once influenced by them.

“ _I think you may have a mole, Kendra!_ ” Hux snarled, still at the bottom of the staircase. Outraged and all as he was, he still wanted to touch her. She was about to bristle a retort when movement caught her far peripheral vision; Nana shifting uncomfortably.

 

The youngest of the three present adults turned to face her trusted employee with disbelieving disgust.

 _“You told him, didn’t you?”_ Brendol watched from below, this was bad. When she didn’t get an answer, she pried again with her lip curled up into a snarl. **_“You told him, didn’t you?!”_**

“I told him….” Nana admitted quietly, shamefully and the man at the bottom of the stairs knew that was the wrong thing to do. “He said it was imperative he knew when you were pregnant.” That was it. That was what opened the floodgates of her hormones. Before Brendol could stop her and what Nana knew what was happening, Kendra’s hands met Nana’s back and shoved as hard as she could. Hux watched with horror as the older woman tumbled down the ornate staircase, every stone step hitting her worn body on the way down.

 

She rolled at his feet in a crumpled mess of blood and groaning before he looked up to his wife at the top. He expected remorse, as if it had been a momentary loss in judgement. He would be disappointed. Instead, she stood with her chest heaving, her beautiful pale face contorted with a fury he’d never really seen and one raven curl dangling down into her face.

 

 ** _“TRAAAAITOOOR!!”_** She screamed, deranged at the barely moving lump at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Before she could do any more damage, Kendra turned and strode back to her room, still snarling like an animal. _Her father knew and had told her husband._ The two things she was trying to prevent until she could no longer prevent them. As usual, her hand guarded the bump along with the devoted Vornskr. She had eased herself down into the armchair beside the fireplace in her bedroom and simply let her mind drift into nothingness. Did she regret what she’d done? It was simply a blur but no. Kendra only had a few minutes before she realized she was no longer alone.

 

“There was no need for that.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Was her distasteful reply as if nothing had happened.

“You could have killed her!” Kendra looked up and locked her burning gaze with her husband’s.

“ _She. Deserved. Every. Step.”_  

"He was going to find out eventually!” Brendol countered, frustrated once he’d recovered from his wife’s unnerving response. “I’m not fond of your father either but this is ridiculous!!” His efforts were undone when a wicked, bitter laugh tumbled from her lips.

“You have no idea!” The spiteful laughter continued. “The things that bastard has put me through over the years! From the time I was fifteen to the time I married _you_ , I was bait! Bait for perverted old men at various gala balls and gatherings, the likes of where he met you!” It subsided and complete callousness had taken over.

 

“All in the name of business! That’s all I ever was! A business accessory! A tool! And then **YOU!!”** He shifted like Nana had when she looked at him again, that inhumane glower. “When he met **YOU!!** When **YOU** took a liking **,** he realized I was far more valuable than flirting at a gala!! It didn’t matter if it cost him his only daughter!! No, I was offered to the General!! Just so my vile excuse of a father could get his claws into the biggest business deal of his life: THE NEW EMPIRE!!”

 

Hux was quiet. He knew what had happened; he’d just never heard it from her. It was surreal how a decision that had not involved her could have affected her so massively. Her head tilted and rested against the back of the chair with her eyes closed; one hand embedded in her obsidian curls, the other resting on the bump.

 

 _“I only ever wanted to be left alone.”_  He finally cleared his throat.

“If… If it had been different. If he hadn’t been involved and I pursued you myself…. Would you feel differently about me? Than you do now?”

“No.” Was the blunt answer that pricked him a little. “You were First Order scum then, you’re First Order scum now. Nothing would be different.”

“You’re carrying my children, Kendra.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“We made a deal.” A light sigh was her only response until she felt a light pressure against the bump, just below her hand. With her eyes open, her gaze was met with her husband on his knees in front of her with his forehead pressed gently against where his children were growing.

“ _I don’t want to go back…..”_ Her eyes shut again and her head reclaimed the position against the back of the chair, an action fuelled by helplessness and weakness.

“I don’t care if you do or don’t, Brendol. I just don’t care anymore.”

“ _Stay with me tonight. I want to be near them before I return.”_

“Fine.”


	11. Civility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol sinks even deeper into whatever it is he's experiencing while Kendra is only interested in upholding her end of the bargain.

He stayed there, crouched over her belly for as long as she would allow as if every second was precious. His hands held it at either side, feeling the swelling and the solidness of their protection. He barely heard her acceptance, her defeat. When did; he held them a little tighter. She didn’t open her eyes just yet, it was too much. For such a powerful man (she would never admit it to him) who was supposed to be unfeeling; it was unnerving to see him splayed out so vulnerable and desperate to be near his unborn children.

 

The children that were supposedly meant to be heirs to a name and a legacy, not to be born to be loved as children should be. Which did he want? To be a staunch figure barely present in their lives or to be a father, a real father? He was confusing her. That had been the purpose of impregnating her in the first place; for a line that would carry on everything he had striven to build. But looking at him now…. She wasn’t so sure.

 

“I need to rest.” She told him finally rather than kicking him off like she had done the last time he got too close. “I will meet you for dinner in two hours and after that, we can rest together. Does that satisfy you?” Trying to be amicable, especially with Brendol was out of character for her but they had in fact made a deal. If he managed to conceive, she would do what was expected of her; both as a wife and a mother. Forced or not. If he thought being away for two hours while she rested was going to be difficult, he wasn’t sure how he was going to cope returning to Finalizer for possibly months away from them; his family.

“Two hours.” He promised, getting to his feet and stopping at the door to look back longingly. She spoke again before he left.

“And I want Nana gone.”

 

He saw to that request personally. When he left her bedroom, he paused outside the door for a moment. If he heard any difficulty with her getting back into bed, he would re-enter to help her. He heard nothing unusual; she got out of the chair and crossed the room to her bed without incident so went to attend to what she’d asked. While Nana’s arm was being put into a sling and the blood cleaned away, Brendol questioned her.

 

He would still be unaware of his children if this betrayal hadn’t occurred. However, there was a very different Kendra resting upstairs. No less hateful but compliant with the deal that had been struck. According to the older woman, Romhain had promised to set her, her children and her grandchildren up for life. Never have to worry about money again in exchange for vigilance. He couldn’t say he was surprised. Romhain used the power and money he had to even affect his own family and this wasn’t the first time he’d done it to his own daughter.

 

While Nana adored Kendra, she wasn’t blood; priorities had to be organized. As Nana was helped up to be escorted out, she locked gazes with the General; as if about to say something to him but decided against it at the last second. His eyes followed her out curiously but he did not pursue the matter. No doubt there would be a scramble among the rest of the female staff now that Nana was gone; to fill the position of a confidante and trustee. There would be no trust now. She had been too badly burnt.

 

Kendra’s rest was far from restful. As she lay there with her hand on her bump and Nero stretched out beside her, it annoyed her that she couldn’t get Brendol out of her head. His question rang in her mind. _If he hadn’t been involved and I pursued you myself…. Would you feel differently about me?_  She could and would never love him. She held no affection, no patience, no gentility for him. If she had held any positive feelings for him at all, she might have pitied him.

 

Whether she liked it or not, there were now subtle but noticeable changes in her husband since she married him and even since the destruction of Starkiller. Maybe it was the near death experience that had caused him to change or the prospect of being a father but those changes had started even before her own father had put the idea of heirs in his head. While her father devoted himself and his business like mind to the resurrection of the First Order and the rise of the new Empire, she did not share his loyalties. She was Republican by her mother.

 

Yes, the Republic was gone but that meant there was a chance to rebuild and to improve. Much like the Empire. But Brendol would not let that happen. If the new Empire rose, he would be leading it and would probably drag her with him; parade her as a trophy. She would be back to forcing charm at balls and galas at the side of the new Emperor; his wife and the mother of his children. It would kill her.

 

She got up earlier than planned when she couldn’t sleep; washed and dressed in something different. She hadn’t worn pink in a while so when she ordered it in a maternity day dress, she didn’t think she’d wear it all that often. But the (pale pink) material was soft, it fitted well and flattered the bump and her chest; she didn’t feel so…. Big. It contrasted wonderfully with the darkness of her hair that she left down for dinner and the empty silver locket that would one day hold pictures of her children. He was already waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

 

She was breath taking as usual but with only a fraction of her usual savagery. She took the last step but didn’t so much as spare him a glance, just continued towards the dining room with Brendol on her heels and Nero at her side. If he had been a braver man or she was less intimidating; he would have sped up and attempted to take her hand but he didn’t need another mangling from that beast. He couldn’t understand why she kept that bloody thing with her. It was bulky, it was ugly, it was aggressive; what could possibly be the appeal of it? What he didn’t see, however, was the constant loyalty, gentility and protectiveness that Nero relentlessly displayed, especially with the bump.

 

The advantage of allowing Kendra to go ahead of him was that she was already seated at the head of the table with Nero beside her so he could choose his own seat. Naturally, he sat beside her. A small growl erupted from Nero but she shushed him gently and flattened his black ears as she stroked his head but the red eyes maintained an unnerving stare with Brendol’s.

 

When Nero got bored, he leaned to the side and ran his nose over the bump which horrified Hux.

 

“ _What…. What is it doing?!_ ” He asked; panic clutching at him as he watched Nero nuzzling the bump. The sensation was so familiar by now that she looked down with a confused frown, impatience creeping in already.

“He’s not doing anything.”

“ _Make it stop!”_

“He’s warming them, making sure they’re alright; he always does it. Calm down, Brendol.” The more he scrutinized Nero, the more he realized that’s all the animal was doing. It was difficult for him to digest that the Vornskr that had attacked him so brutally now protected his children so fiercely. And would continue to do so after they were born. Their dinner was served and, like her father had, in between his own mouthfuls; he found himself watching hers. He found she took plenty of red meat (for protein and iron), what he assumed to be Bantha meat. There was wine on the table (that had been placed there specifically for him) whereas she found herself drinking either water or Eopie milk. Again, protein and fat were important for her at the moment.

 

“Do they kick yet?” The question made her look up where his eyes were already on her. That had been her first question for the medic; when they would kick. And if it would hurt. She said it would to begin with but she would grow used to it.

“No.” The civility had not yet worn off but he could tell it was unnatural for her. She could have easily snapped at him. She was there at his request; she would sleep in his bed that night because he asked her to.

“Not for another two weeks or so.” He nodded slowly as he chewed and waited to swallow before he spoke again.

“Something to look forward to.”

“It will be painful to begin with or so I’m told.” Kendra responded, having finished off the last of her meat. “But as long as they’re only kicking me and not each other, I will adjust.” What a maternal thing to say.

 

Kendra excused herself to change after they had arranged to meet again in his chambers. For some reason, he paced his bedroom floor dressed in a simple lounge pants. Maybe he could extend his time. Send a com in the morning and inform them he would be away for a while longer. He very reluctantly decided against it. This time was crucial for the First Order. He would never forgive himself (nor would his colleagues) if he sacrificed timing that was so essential just to lie in bed with a woman who despised him, despite the fact that his children were growing inside her.

 

He toyed with the idea of bringing her to Finalizer with him but she’d never go. He knew that. Not only would she be in confines of his quarters (which she would absolutely **refuse** to be), she would also be aboard with Kylo Ren. As much as it irritated Hux, the Knight did need to have free roam of the ship so Nero would not be permitted to accompany her. Nor did he trust Ren if his wife was on board, pregnant or not. Even less if she was pregnant. He certainly couldn’t have the closest thing he had to a weakness be in the same vicinity. He had no choice.

 

He had to be separated from her. For how long, it was impossible to say. His children might be born by the next time he would be able to return to Arkanis which pained him. But it was the only solution. If he could return intermittently; he would do so wholeheartedly and stay for as long as he could, but he couldn’t promise himself that he’d be as lucky on his other visits as he was on this one though he didn’t know what to expect from tonight.

 

The light springing of the handle being pushed down brought Hux back to his senses. He stopped pacing and looked up. Her hair was still down, the locket was gone, her feet were bare and she was bundled into a white night robe. She didn’t say anything when she entered and resisted eye contact as she undid her robe and laid it down at the bottom of the bed. The bump was more noticeable in the constriction of the long, white silk nightdress rather than the loose day dresses he’d seen her in. It wasn’t necessarily tight, it was still maternity design but the material had less give.

 

The silk would help keep her cool, especially in his bed where the blankets were heavier. It wasn’t for him; to arouse him or to drive him wild. She was purely thinking of herself. The one consideration she did give him, however, was leaving Nero in her own room. Without invitation, Kendra peeled back the sheets on the side she had woken up on previously; seemingly claiming it as hers though she intended to be there as little as possible. Having sat into the bed, she could tell straightaway that this would not be comfortable night. For the first time since she entered the room, she looked up at her husband who stared at her as if she had just magically appeared in his bed.

“Well?” His throat was cleared as if he were embarrassed or nervous; his bare feet padding to the side of the bed and peeling back the covers as she had.

“Yes.”

 

Kendra lay mostly on her side; it was the most appeasing position for her with the way the babies had chosen to spend their night. Already, she was bending to their contentment over her own. Her eyes had drifted closed and the deep breath indicated relaxation though it was strange to be sharing a bed with anyone other than Nero. Not that she could tell he was in the bed. He was still staring at her from a distance when he remembered the whole point of asking her to come here; to be close to his children until Gods knew when. Hesitantly and awkwardly, he shuffled across the mattress until he was right beside her.

 

Almost nose to nose and a hand stretched out to cover the bump; he continued to take in every detail of her face to commit it to memory for the lonely nights back on Finalizer. It was so rare to see her peaceful and neutral that he wanted to take advantage of it while he could. His free hand draped over her waist and the palm settled against the small of her back but her eyes didn’t open. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or ignoring him. The latter wouldn’t have shocked him. There was no way he’d sleep that night, he’d make up for it with a few early nights on Finalizer or maybe not. He barely slept on the ship anyway, he always found something more worthy of his time.

 

He had not given up on that fantasy; that fantasy of the Empire at his feet and his (willing) wife and children at his side. There _had_ to be way to make that happen. There had to be a way to make her see the life she could have if he was successful. Her father and brothers would never bother her again. She and their children would have everything they could ever want. And maybe they might not stop at the twins she was carrying now. There could be other pregnancies that she might be overjoyed to have; that they would celebrate together. Even something as simple as just sleeping in the same bed every night. He’d definitely sleep then with her comforting scent and an affectionate hand on his chest. There had to be a way.


	12. I Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slip of Kendra's tongue unravels everything.

Once again, Brendol woke alone. Gods, was he that repulsive? He lay there for a while, waking up and stretching. He looked at the empty pillow beside him and the only evidence she had been there was a single, long black hair splayed across it. Eventually he hauled himself up and tried to bury the disappointment. He checked the time; he’d slept a lot longer than he would have on Finalizer which only reinforced his musings from the night previous.

 

Showered and dressed, Hux found his wife downstairs in the dining room. She too was dressed but picking at a bland, plain breakfast. Nero saw him first and alerted her with a quiet, rumbling growl. Automatically, her hand stretched to his head to ease him and Brendol was greeted with no less and no more disdain than usual.

 

“You could have woken me. I would rather have taken breakfast together.” He was blunt about it and the annoyed sigh from the head of the table proved he had made his point. “

We’re back to what you’d rather, Brendol. You know I don’t care about what you’d rather.” A staff member entered and started setting a place to where he briskly indicated; right beside Kendra. “When I woke, I wasn’t concerned with waking you. I was trying to prevent my stomach from emptying its contents so you’ll excuse me if I wasn’t in the right frame of mind this morning.” Kendra took a sip from the cup of pallie juice beside her plate. The taste made her flinch but it contained all the vitamins and minerals for her to continue sustaining the twins that she just didn’t get from living on Arkanis.

“Besides, domestic bliss wasn’t part of your request. You asked me to spend the night with you and I did. I woke up early with morning sickness and had to pry myself out of your grasp. It’s not my problem if you’re sore about it.”

 

That was slightly embarrassing. If she had to pry herself from him it may have looked a tad desperate. Thankfully, she didn’t seem too intent on emphasizing or staying on the subject. His breakfast was placed down in front of him and it was significantly more elaborate than Kendra’s. Just the sight of it made her nose wrinkle and her stomach turn a little bit more.

 

“Could I have some Chandrilan tea, please?” She asked the younger woman who had just set down her husband’s plate. “I’m still not feeling very well.” She had abandoned all attempts with her own breakfast that just looked like Five Blossom Bread and a banal sort of porridge that he would have been humiliated for anyone to see his wife eating, pregnant or not. When her tea arrived, she didn’t seem to care about the temperature. A scalding mouthful was taken and swallowed but she almost immediately felt better. Leaning back in her chair, Kendra’s eyes closed and her hand reclaimed its natural place on her bump, stroking it gently like she always did.

 

Of course, Brendol watched her. So much for not wanting his children. She seemed quite enamoured by them already in the way she behaved and the changes she had made in order to accommodate them.

 

“As for what I’d rather, Kendra.” The General spoke up after he hand swallowed his mouthful and was in the process of cutting up another. Naturally, her eyes opened when her name was spoken but she didn’t move from her position. “It might not always be your priority but it is when it matters.”

“What are talking about now, Brendol?” Came the impatient reply, reaching out for her cup to take another sip.

“Your condition.” Was his simple response as he tore his eyes from his plate and placed them on his wife’s stomach instead. “If you never did another thing that I’d _rather_ , you’ve already done the main one.”

“That was a lapse in my timing and management skills, nothing else; I assure you.”

 

Brendol froze mid-chew. The pulp in his mouth wasn’t exactly at swallowing consistency but he swallowed nonetheless and turned to face her though she was passive, immersed in the bump once again. _What?_ It was as if she felt the stare because she looked up and found her husband’s icy gaze locked on hers.

 

 ** _“Explain.”_** If he had expected her to be unnerved or fearful by her slip of the tongue and getting caught by it, he was about to be sorely mistaken. Instead, she eased herself forward in her seat and leaned against the table, boldly matching his gaze.

 

“What did you think happened?” She asked him quietly, amused and it showed. “Did you really think that in all the times you tried to breed me that the time it actually _happened_ was when I had fallen asleep afterwards?” There was no point hiding it anymore. If anything, it was one more thing to hang over him. He wasn’t exactly sure when his children had been conceived but the last possible time had been….

 

“ _Aargau.”_

“Aargau.” She confirmed with the same quiet amusement. It made sense. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it. Every time they had been _intimate_ , she always left straightaway. It seemed not wanting to be in his presence was only part of her hasty exits.

 _“You were blocking me!”_ He hissed as it sank in and he wasn’t sure if he should be hurt, angry or both. Kendra didn’t seem to care; it actually wound her up even more.

“Clever boy.” She praised him with a poisonous sweetness as his nostrils flared. “You didn’t think I was going to let you ruin my life any more than you already had without a fight, did you?!”

 

“ _You evil bitch_.” He couldn’t stop it. He stared at her and the words just came. She knew how hard he had striven, how badly he had wanted this. Hell, he didn’t know how badly he wanted it until they were actually there which was why he’d fallen to his knees to hold the bump the night previous.

 

“It’s not just about you, Brendol.” Was her cold response, unperturbed by his insult but she slowly got more flared up. “You’re going back to the Finalizer for who knows how long; who’s carrying them?! **Me!** Who will risk her life in labour?! **Me!** Who will care for them while you’re off terrorizing innocent men, women and children?! **ME!”**

 

 **“** _You promised me!”_ He bit back, wounded.

“I promised you **nothing.”** Kendra hissed dangerously. “I made you a deal. That deal was **IF** you were successful that I would behave as I was expected to. So far, I have been amicable but you are making it **VERY** difficult!”

“Expected?!” He repeated incredulous. “Amicable? Do you know what those words mean, Kendra?! Because you have been neither of those things!” That cruel, demeaning laugh that he hadn’t heard in months made a brutal reappearance.

“And what would you like, Brendol?!” She asked, her tone dripping in condescension and mockery. “Yes, darling?! No, Darling?! Sit down and let me rub your feet, darling?!” She cut herself off and relished watching him burning. “I know what you want.” She continued with that sadistic smirk he loved and hated so much. “You want _me._ You want me to love you. To tell you every day how much you mean to me. To be there at your side when the Empire rises and to hold your arm through your vile speeches. To willingly have your children and share your bed. Isn’t that true?”

 

It was all true. He had diverted his gaze in anguish and shame; he couldn’t look at her while she was tearing it all up. Like the night he arrived home after Starkiller, his face was grabbed and he was forced to look at the beautiful fury; all traces of her amusement forgotten. Her eyes bored into his whether he wanted them to or not. _“_

_I would rather hang myself from the balcony.”_

His breathing had increased and his hands had coiled into fists on the table. It was taking everything in his power not to lash out at her, to physically hurt her. All he could do was remind himself of his children. She noticed.

 

“Lay a finger on me.” She dared him aggressively, Nero’s top lip lifting to display a row of knife-like fangs that Brendol was already familiar with. “And I promise you, he will go for the jugular and I **will not** call him off.” The General was silent for a moment until a moment of clarity seemingly erupted before his very eyes. It took him a few seconds but when it did, an uncharacteristic grin split across his pallid cheeks.

 

“ _It doesn’t matter_.” He told her with a small sob of heartless laughter and it was her turn to be unnerved. “Do you know why? Because I’ve won.” Kendra’s face fell and Brendol continued. _“You’re_ carrying _my_ children! The children you didn’t want because they were mine! And here you are; making changes to your diet, your wardrobe, your sleeping arrangements, everything! And all for **MY** children!” _That son of a bitch!_

 

“Kendra.” He grabbed her hand and held it with unnecessary tightness in his own; his disposition had melted into ruthlessness as he leaned across the table to get as close as he could to her. “ _You have never belonged to me more than you do now. You have never been more my property or that of the First Order than you are now_. _Those children? They’re future Generals like their father before them and there is **NOTHING** you can do about it.”_

 

Kendra swallowed and hesitated for a minute. He was right. She was powerless. He could take those children if he wanted to; have them sent away. Probably to that bloody Academy where his father would turn them into robots. She knew then she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. Her babies would be hers to do with their own lives as they pleased. With strength it didn’t look like she had; Kendra ripped her hand out of Brendol’s grasp and rose to leave as elegantly as her bump would allow. He seemed to be coming down from his harshness until he felt his wife’s hair tickle the side of his face. _“_

 

 _I hope Finalizer crashes and burns with you on board.”_ She began ominously, bending over so slightly over his shoulder; her lip curled up into a wicked snarl. _“I hope your Stormtroopers turn against you. I hope the Resistance finds you and tears your worthless, weasel-like carcass all over the galaxy.”_ Something light was tossed down into his lap but he stared ahead.

 

 _“But most of all; I hope this is the most you ever see of **them.”**_ She left with Nero padding obediently after her without a command. He waited until she was gone before he picked up the thin, flat object she had thrown so carelessly into his lap. He turned it over and his heart sank into his stomach. His face dropped as he took in the two tiny forms on the black and white holo. His children.


	13. Not Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol is worried when Kendra refuses to answer his coms so he sends Cole to check on Kendra.

“It’s been three months and nothing!”

“ **I haven’t heard from her either but what did you expect?”**

“She’s been ignoring my coms!”

**“Do you blame her, General?”**

“Whose side are you on, Romhain?”

“ **I’m not on anyone’s side. The whole situation is exhausting; I want no part in it.”**

“Your daughter is over seven months pregnant and you’re not even the slightest bit concerned?!”

**“Of course I’m concerned, General. But I’m not about to involve myself in my daughter’s marriage.”**

“So you’re only concerned about my wife when it suits you?!” Brendol shot back at the loudspeaker com. The Stormtroopers outside wouldn’t dare to be listening to the conversation. “You’re constantly involving yourself in our marriage, Romhain! Its part of the reason we’re in this mess! You’re part of the reason my wife hates me!”

 **“Ah but if it wasn’t for me, would she be your wife?”** He had nothing to say to that. He knew she wouldn’t. He could have chased her all over the villa on Aargau, he could have turned up to every ball and every gala he knew she was going to be at and it wouldn’t have made the slightest bit of difference. He could have waited below the balcony of her bedroom every night and every morning; it still would have been in vain. _You were First Order scum then and you’re First Order scum now. Nothing would be different._ That retort still haunted him.

 

 **“Cole is doing an inspection of one of the Corellian trade routes we run.”** Romhain’s disdain was obvious even over the com. **“I’ll have him stop by Arkanis on the way back and check on her.”**

 

Brendol was fuming. And not just with his father in law. It was true he and Kendra hadn’t parted on the best of terms (understatement) but the scan suggested she had been trying to make an effort before he angered her. After all, she didn’t need to give it to him in the first place, he hadn’t even thought about it. Let alone when he tried to exert himself over her, forgetting about her vicious comments. She had clearly been trying to show some sort of consideration for him. He’d decided he’d been too hard on her. It wasn’t fair to remind her that she was trapped in a marriage she didn’t want nor emphasizing that she would have no control over her children’s lives that she also didn’t want.

 

That part remained to be seen. The scan though. It sat in the same pocket as his wedding ring; unbent and uncreased but always on his person. It took an extra minute in the morning to get it into his pocket smoothly but it was worth it. On a daily basis, Brendol fought the urge to take the holo down to the medical bay to have it examined. He was between two minds on whether he wanted to know the genders or not. Kendra had said she was waiting to find out so he decided to follow suit. Instead of going against her, he simply sat in bed every night and stared at it while his ring sat on his finger; trying to see if he could work out the sexes for himself.

 

With everything she’d said, with every hole she poked in his beloved fantasy and with every horrible word she’d snarled at him when the scan was tossed into his lap; he was worried about her. Every night for the last three months, he wondered if she was eating enough, sleeping enough and getting all the extra things she was supposed to be getting. He wondered if her feet were sore, if her back ached and if her clothes were still fitting. The only reminder he had of that fierce, beautiful face was burned into his memory from the night she’d grudgingly agreed to sleep beside him; his last visit to the villa.

 

He’d made the decision that he wanted holos of her for his quarters and his office. She’d berate and mock him for it but he wanted physical reminders of his wife rather than his own memory. He’d tried comming the villa at least a dozen times but to no avail. It seemed the staff were under strict instructions to ignore the com device. Most of them didn’t need to be warned; speaking to the General one on one didn’t have a massive appeal to them since they were mostly Resistance affiliates anyway. When he got frustrated; with her or anyone else, he took out the holo and he was at peace once more.

 

He had shown it to Phasma who had congratulated him half-heartedly but there was no one else he trusted enough to view his children. Certainly not Kylo Ren. When he stared at it in bed, the gender question raged. Boys or girls? One of each? A son was easy; he’d be like his father, no question about it. A daughter though….. How would he cope with a daughter?

 

Kendra had raged solidly for hours the day her husband left. _How dare he?!_ She didn’t regret a single word she’d said nor did she regret telling Nero to make her husband unrecognizable if he tried to enter her room. It seemed he knew better because he didn’t try. The only thing she may have mildly regretted was giving him the holo. She had kept it with the wholehearted intentions of giving it to him before he left purely out of the goodness of her heart to ease him while he was away. Instead, she had turned it into venom, into a weapon. That the scan might be the only way he would ever see his children after that visit.

 

Again, she didn’t regret that. He deserved it. How dare he rub it in her face about belonging to him?! And the First Order?! To hell with both of them! Mostly confined to bedrest, she didn’t think she could take this for another six weeks. Why did it have to be so _boring?!_ It was as if the weather was teasing her; the usual cold and rainy climate of her husband’s home planet was uncharacteristically sunny when she couldn’t go out. Feet sore, back sore, breasts sore; the com device made that irritating noise again and she knew who it was and what he wanted. He wasn’t getting anywhere with it.

 

When Kendra’s bedroom door opened, she expected to see one of the staff but instead she was greeted with someone she hadn’t seen in seven and a half months. Cole.

 

“I’ve been trying to com but I hear you’ve suspended the lines?” He inquired chirpily as he entered the room uninvited and closed the door behind him.

“What do you want?” She asked with noticeable disdain as a pale hand came up to cover her eyes and forehead. He seated himself at the edge of the bed and looked down at his baby sister; damn she was huge. “ _What do you want, Cole_?!” She asked again with a taint of aggression, her system was ridden with hormones which didn’t make her the most patient.

“The General has been blowing up father’s com line.” Cole stated, cheerfully matter of factly as he continued to take his sister in. His father would want to know to pass it along to his son in law. “He’s worried about you.”

“Let him be worried!” Kendra spat nastily as she struggled to get up and pull herself over to the other side. Cole watched but made no attempt to help. “And he’s not worried about me! He’s worried about his children! The ones crippling me!” Cole hadn’t seen his sister since… Well, the night her children had been conceived (not that he knew that). As far as he knew, she had no love for the things draining her. She managed to struggle to her feet and she had gotten to the stage where it was even too much effort to get dressed.

 

The comfort of her nightdress was all she needed as she (slowly and painfully) paced the room, one hand on her back, the other on her bump.

“That bastard!” She seethed, feeling the rage from that morning glowing again. “He wants children and yet he’s nowhere to be seen!”

“Kendra.” Cole blinked from his seat on the bed, unsure if the female knew the actual extent of her actions. “You realize what you’ve done to him, don’t you?” A quiet titter of laughter escaped the male. “You’ve broken the poor bastard. You _broke_ the General of the First fucking Order. He’s obsessed! I’ve heard the way he speaks about you, the way he won’t let others speak about you! It’s pathetic!”

“It’s only because I’m pregnant.” She reasoned quietly, supporting and warming herself on the fireplace.

“Oh really?” Cole rose to the challenge. “Right. Were you pregnant at mother’s funeral?”

“No….”

“Exactly! He accosted me when you left! He followed you home without asking, followed you like a pup! You don’t see it, do you?! You’re **crushing him!”** Unconvinced, Kendra’s hand stroked her bump. More kicking. They were frantic today, more so than usual.

“Kendra, whatever fucked up definition of love that loser has, it’s you! How are you not seeing it?!”

“He doesn’t love me!” She retorted with an annoyed roll of her eyes though she was beginning to feel more and more physically uncomfortable. “If he loved me, I wouldn’t have been a bird in a cage for the last four years!”

“He’s jealous?” He offered with a small shrug. She knew that much. He’d looked murderous that day when Kylo Ren appeared in the drawing room. “Doesn’t want anyone near his precious Kendra?”

“ _This conversation ends now!”_ Her turn was swift and her growl was dangerous; so much so that the usually cocky male dropped the topic immediately. _“There are no feelings in this marriage and there never will be!”_

 

Cole’s face dropped into a frown as he watched his sister by the fireplace.

“Are you alright?”

“No….” Her head was swimming, the pain in her stomach was stretching down between her legs and her entire body felt like every nerve was alight. _Not now. It can’t be now. It’s too early. It hasn’t been nine months yet. Stop kicking me like that…._ Before the puddle hit the floor, the male was on his feet and had crossed the room to his youngest sibling in a few long strides. He caught her just as her legs gave way and she just seemed to dangle there. It was the closest Cole had ever come to panic. Swooping her up properly (and it was more difficult since she was carrying two smaller humans within her, making her both more heavy and delicate) he carried her over to the bed and laid her back down.

“Kendra?!” He pressed around for a pulse and (thankfully) found it. “Fuck, Kendra, what’s going on?!” He clearly didn’t know much about childbirth. His sister was useless so he’d have to try elsewhere. Diving for the door, he scrambled for the first staff member he could find and relayed the situation. It went from there.

 

The General’s own com buzzed on his wrist. Romhain. An irritated glanced around the packed control room meant he would have to wait until he could leave. A purposeful march found him alone in a quiet corridor where he could take this without being disturbed.

“Romhain.”

**“We have a problem.”**


	14. I Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol waits with baited breath.

Brendol had never come so close to begging for something in his life as he did in front of his master that day. He managed to talk the Supreme Leader around; emphasizing how his children were going to be the next generation of the Empire, how they would continue his command and he _needed_ to be there to ensure all went smoothly. He was granted a week. His shuttle was boarded and he was home in just over an hour. On the way there; fear ate at him.

 

The words “ ** _We have a problem_** ” would forever haunt him. His mind had immediately dived to his children; his sons, his daughters, one of each, it didn’t matter as long as they were alright. The prematurity of it all hadn’t even occurred to him. He didn’t think for one minute (until Romhain told him) that Kendra would be the problem. How had she just collapsed? It was beyond lucky that Cole was there. In all the many months he hadn’t seen her, he was there at the exact moment she needed him. If he hadn’t been, there could have been untold damage done to the children and their mother.

 

The front doors were charged and he could hear her instantly; crying, screaming, howling. It echoed almost throughout the whole house, proof that she was already in the throes of labour.  At least she was awake, alive. His gloves were stripped off and he took to the stairs with an urgency only rivalled by when Starkiller started to collapse. Even without her voice to guide him, he knew where to go.

 

Kendra sat up in her bed; knees bent and far apart. Her whole body ached, the sweat poured and the tears flowed; how had her mother done this four times?! And with such a substantial gap between each pregnancy?! This gruelling experience had only just begun and yet, already, it felt like she had been in this crippling agony for hours. It was like the physical embodiment of being married to Brendol Hux. She hated not being in control, especially of her own body and right now, she felt as if it was betraying her. The burning radiating from below dragged out another horrible sob as she pushed when she was told to, doing her best to ignore the glaring humiliation of the whole situation. She was a sight for sore eyes but when Brendol pushed in her bedroom door, he crossed the room to her without hesitation.

 

Her eyes were closed mid-push; her hair was bundled into a ponytail over her shoulder, one hand rested on the bump, the other clasped the pillow behind her desperately and what few free strands there were clung to her skin with sweat. The usual white nightdress covered her though it was pushed up past her hips to allow room for her legs to open. She didn’t register the weight at the side of her bed but when her hand was gently removed from the pillow and held comfortingly, she felt that.

 

“ ** _Get. Out._** ” The venom only intensified with the excruciating pain she was in. Any other time he would have accepted it and done as he was asked but not now; this was too important.

“No, I’m staying here.” He felt an involuntary squeeze to his hand and for a brief moment it looked like he might get his way. Until her feral gaze heightened to someone else.

 **_“_ ** **_GET. HIM. OUT OF HERE!!!!”_ **

 

Without warning, Brendol’s arm was snatched by someone stronger than him and dragged into the hallway. With the door closed, he found himself face to face with his escort.

 

“Are you trying to get us both fucking killed?!” His brother in law demanded but Brendol wasn’t in the mood for taking orders from the Varnetts. Any of them.

“My wife needs me!” Hux spat back, pointing to the bedroom door where he could hear her whimpering uncontrollably.

“Your wife doesn’t need you!” Cole replied viciously with his nostrils flared. “Your wife has NEVER needed you! She was doing just fine until she met you! Get downstairs, you and I need to have a chat!”

“I’m not going anywhere!”

“Do you want to distress her more than she already is?! You want to put her life further in danger?! Hmm?! Do you?! Get down the **fucking** stairs before I drag you down!” As much as it pained him, Cole had a valid point. While he had only tried to help; to comfort her and support her, it seemed she didn’t want it. It harmed her if anything.

 

So he grudgingly followed Cole downstairs to the reception room. It seemed he would be taking orders from the Varnetts after all. Brendol sat in front of the fire, he hadn’t realized he was cold until now. His eyes flickered to the window, the weather was so changeable on this planet despite the season, it shouldn’t have surprised him that his children would be born on a cold, stormy day.

 

Cole sat opposite him like Romhain had the day this all started. He stared down the ginger male for a moment, picking through what he wanted to say.

“I have no love for you.” He began coldly, snatching Brendol’s attention from the window. “I have no love for the First Order nor for this empire you intend on building. But I will tell you this, man to man; you don’t want to be up there while this is happening.” The only noise was the crackling of the log and Kendra somewhere far off in the depths of the house; Brendol sat forward as Cole tried to advise him like Romhain had.

 

“I don’t think you realize how easily this can all go wrong. One wrong push, one bad position and it can all go wrong. You don’t want to be there when it does.” Cole was quieter now and it prompted Brendol to interrupt.

“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.” The older male’s finger nail scratched lightly and nervously against the leather of the armchair.

“Believe me when I say that there is nothing more crushing than the guilt and the helplessness of standing there and watching her when you know there’s nothing you can do to help her, nothing you can do to save her. There won’t be a day that goes by that you won’t think about it. Combing through every fucking minute, looking for something you could have done that might have changed things when you know there’s nothing. If it happens, it happens; you’re better off to save yourself from it.” Something akin to pity rose in Brendol’s chest as he watched Cole stare at nothing.

“You lost her, didn’t you?”

 

“I lost them both.”

 

Cole went to com and update his father so Brendol took his chance. Cole’s advice rang in his mind and while he didn’t want to distress Kendra further by imposing on her, he did need to be near her. Like a child, the General sat outside her bedroom door on the floor with his knees tucked up to his chin. He listened to every scream, every sob and every toiled whimper of effort that came with a push. Cole was right. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

 

There was literally nothing he could do. He didn’t know how long he was sat there when he heard it: the squall of a new-born baby. There was no audible mention of a gender, it seemed the child was just washed and laid aside while the more pressing attention was turned to its sibling. Kendra’s cries and moans got weaker as time wore on and Hux just stared at the door, petrified. He wanted so badly to go in; to check on her, hold her, encourage her but Cole’s words had stuck with him. Another half an hour crawled past and the flustered calls of **“Stay with me, Mrs Hux, stay with me.”** numbed him.

 

If she didn’t correct him on that…. Only a few moments later and the second set of new lungs being tested could be heard. He waited. One minute… Two minutes… Five minutes…. Ten minutes…. More than ten minutes later, the medic emerged sombre and found the man he was looking for on the floor. Needless to say, Brendol scrambled up, desperate for answers.

 

“Both your sons are fine.” The General’s breath caught in his throat. _Both your sons are fine._ It seemed the medic was hesitant to deliver the rest of the news. “I’m terribly sorry to inform you, General but your wife is dying. She… She won’t make it through the night.”

 

Brendol didn’t think that a non-human face could express emotion. But when he stepped into her room and saw Nero a few metres ahead of him; his mind was changed on that forever. Sitting in the space between the bed and the cot (which stood a safe distance from the fire but close enough to catch the heat), the Vornskr was visibly devastated. He looked at Brendol and Brendol looked back and a silent truce was called in mutual heartbreak.

 

Hux had a choice: If he turned left, he’d be faced with a cradle of new life, where his two boys were waiting for him. If he turned right, he would be facing the bed where his wife lay dying. He turned right. He found the gap in the heavy curtains around it and felt himself crumble. Eyes closed, hair back, skin paler than normal, lifeless; he’d never seen her like this before. She’d been tucked in under the blankets and rested against the deep pillows in the middle of the bed for maximum comfort; what else could they do for her if not make sure she was comfortable?

 

He crawled onto the bed and set himself down beside her; in all the training exercises, hand to hand combat not to mention whatever wounds he’d survived, this would always be the most painful thing he’d ever endured. Brendol’s nose lined against her cheek and was relieved to find her warm, only now could he feel and hear her tiny, laboured and shaking excuse of a breath. He rested a tepid hand under her chin and tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb. His free hand covered hers that still rested on the (empty) bump as the inconsolable sniffles started.

 

_“I don’t deserve you. I never deserved you. But they do. They need you. I need you. Please don’t leave me.”_


	15. Struggling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol's torture continues when his father in law arrives on Arkanis. He learns something about Kendra on her deathbed he never knew before.

Brendol didn’t know how long he lay there; counting each weak breath and dreading the one where another wouldn’t follow. He’d never really gotten to hold her like he did now; his arms fully enveloped around her and his face buried in her hair. The closest he’d ever gotten was the night their sons were conceived. He’d already wept, he’d already begged, he’d already tried to implore her that her children needed her.

 

No response. Now, he just sort of stared at nothing, seemingly having cried himself out. It seemed she’d lost. It killed him to think that her last few hours had been in crippling agony, sobbing and wailing as she pushed with only a medic she didn’t know for company. How much did she hate him to say she’d rather that? He’d heard her towards the end of the birth; heard how she weakened with every passing minute but still had to fight to deliver her children. At the other side of the door; he’d listened, helpless and pained but how had she felt?

 

She knew she was dying. She knew with the last feeble pushes that she would never hold them, never feed them nor know their names or genders. They would never know their mother. They wouldn’t know how much she loved them, that she only wanted the best for them and the drastic measures she was willing to take to ensure that they would have their own lives and not be at the mercy of the First Order and their father.

 

Something woke Brendol from his trance. It had woken Nero too. The familiar little squall from beside the fire. He’d almost forgotten they were there. Hesitantly, he parted himself from Kendra’s side and pulled back the curtain to leave the bed. It took his legs a few seconds to readjust to his weight after lying in a strange position for so long. Nero seemed to be waiting for him and in a strange display of new kinship; the human male and Vornskr male approached the crib together.

 

Just like when he learned Kendra was pregnant and when the medic had informed him he had two sons; Brendol’s breath caught in his throat when he looked in. There they were. His two sons; the ones who would be known as the Hux boys. He didn’t think he’d ever seen something so small but so perfect in his life and they were _his_. All the months of toiling with Kendra and these were the magnificent result.

 

It was easily known they were his sons; they’d both been graced with a small tuft of red hair though one was darker than the other. While they only wore their nappies, the new-borns were not short of heat. Various blankets lined the mattress where the two were cuddled up together a thick, white pelt of fur was laid over them as their final layer. It would be unacceptable for these boys to be cold and every effort was made to make sure they weren’t.

 

Hux stood over the cot, still in disbelief and unsure of what to do. He looked down at Nero who had his chin rested against the edge looking down on the babies but his eyes directed up to Brendol. It was a mutual look of: _“What do we do now?”_ Brendol stretched out a bare hand and did something he had never done before. He stroked Nero. The animal was cool to the touch; like wet moss on a stone. Bony but solid and strong. He was no longer a beast or a monster but now a family pet.

 

He certainly wouldn’t have been out of place on Finalizer and he might keep Kylo Ren in line. With the stroke given amicably and accepted, both males looked back down. One child slept on, his chest rose and fell steadily to tell his father he was fine. The smaller one, however, squirmed lightly where he’d been placed with mild whinges of protest as if in discomfort. Brendol had no idea what he was doing. He never for one minute thought he’d be without Kendra; he thought he would have learned from watching her.

 

Now he was on his own. Feeling his way in the metaphoric dark; the General adjusted the fussing infant into one of the many blankets, wrapped him up (to the best of his unexperienced inability) then lifted him and held him to his chest. He was heavier than he looked but still, lighter than expected. And just by holding him, Brendol realized just how delicate he was.

 

The child relaxed somewhat but not completely; there was still the odd shuffle and whimper that made his father petrified to hold him. Nero was silently consulted again but the Vornskr didn’t seem to have much to offer. Brendol had an idea. Still clumsily clutching the irritated child, he crossed the room to Kendra’s bed while Nero watched over the other twin. He sat on the bed again with the baby propped up on his chest but it didn’t ease him.

 

Was he hungry? Did he need to be changed? They were only a few hours old and he was already struggling to cope. Helplessness collided with him again as he looked between his son and his wife; he needed her. Not just for his own comfort but for the children too. Easing himself up to sit beside Kendra, he checked her with his free hand; definitely weaker.

 

 _“That’s your mother.”_ He told the child quietly, voice strained as he tried to keep himself in check though he wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as if the infant would tell anyone. The baby was lifted a little more so his father’s nose was rested against the top of his head with both arms wrapped securely around him. _“I’m afraid it looks like you’re not going to know her very well.”_ It seemed his resolve was starting to fracture again as his eyes well and the sniffles broke him once more. _“But she loves you. I know that. She fought hard to get you here but it was either her or you and your brother and she chose the two of you.”_

He made sure the curtain around the bed was pulled back enough to keep the cot in view as another thought occurred to him through his shuddered breaths. She did love them. He knew it though she had never said it, the way she behaved was enough. Brendol knew she would have been devastated to think she would leave this world without holding one of them, without feeling one of them against her.

 

In all the effort she’d made both with and without his knowledge; he couldn’t do it to her. If there was any small comfort he could give her before she died, he would. The still unnamed baby still squirmed occasionally, his tiny fingers flexing against his father’s arms as though frustrated. What did he have to lose? Ever so carefully, Brendol shuffled over closer to Kendra and delicately placed the child against her chest. He held him there with his own large hand for a moment and almost instantly, the small boy became one with his mother.

 

He lay against her chest and became as silent and as still as his twin in the cot. When he was satisfied that his son wouldn’t suddenly move, Brendol lay back and closed his eyes in utter despair. If this didn’t prove they needed her more than him, nothing would. After all; it made sense. She had carried them for their duration, talked to them, changed her entire routine for them, kept them warm and safe and loved for seven and a half months……

 

Voices in the hallway made Brendol open his eyes; he thought the medic had gone. One of them was definitely Cole and the other was…. With no respect for the solemn atmosphere in the room, the bedroom door was thrown open and Romhain strode in with a disapproving frown and a more reluctant Cole at his heels. The new grandfather’s first stop (unlike Brendol’s) was the cot rather than his daughter. He looked in with disdain where only one of the children was sleeping peacefully then looked back at Cole.

 

“Ugly things, aren’t they?” Nero voiced his indignation with a rumbling growl from beside the cot which prompted Brendol to scramble up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Nero.” He held out a hand to the Vornskr who cast a disgusted glance at Romhain then padded grudgingly to his master’s husband. There didn’t need to be more bloodshed just now but if the eldest male continued, he mightn’t be so generous in restraining Nero.

“Where’s the other one?” Romhain asked, barely hiding his disinterest without greeting Brendol. With an arm wrapped around Nero’s broad shoulders and his hand lightly patting his chest, Hux was just as insulted by Romhain’s behaviour.

“He’s over here. With Kendra.” It was only then that Romhain left the cot but only half crossed the room, not to the bed.

“Is she alive?” Brendol wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer that. Admitting it meant admitting his wife was fighting to cling to her life, a fight she appeared to be losing.

“So far.” His father in law didn’t seem very emotional or upset by the current situation: His daughter, his only daughter was dying.

 

“Won’t be long.” Romhain remarked callously as if this whole thing was an inconvenience and not a horribly tragic incident. Brendol couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Before he could open his mouth to protest the foul attitude and lack of empathy, Romhain spoke again. “General, arrangements need to be made. For Kendra and the boys. Come downstairs, I need a drink.” Unsurprisingly, Brendol didn’t care if Romhain needed a drink; there were far more pressing things on his mind.

 

“I’m not leaving this room.” Romhain glanced back at his eldest son; Cole had mentioned the General’s stubbornness.

“Cole will stay here with Kendra and alert us if anything happens, I’m sure. There are things we need to discuss and I don’t think it’s appropriate to do so in here.” Brendol’s nostrils flared with his arm still wrapped around Nero. Romhain was only worried about appropriation now? Not when he had burst in the door?

“I’m not leaving my sons!” Hux snarled, unshakeable in his resolve and it seemed to rub off on Nero.

“I didn’t realize Finalizer was child friendly.” Romhain countered with a dark amusement and Brendol couldn’t take anymore. He was on his feet in an instant, fists clenched with the Vornskr for support. The General’s eye caught Cole over his father’s shoulder, shaking his head with urgency; a silent communication of _Leave it._ The redhead held his brother in law’s gaze for a few seconds then looked back to the head of the Varnett family.

“Fine. But keep it brief.”

 

Brendol and Romhain had a theme running of life changing conversations in the reception room; right down to the chairs they chose. Romhain had his usual glass of Whyren’s while Brendol watched him empty handed, eager to get back upstairs. The silence was biting. It was as if to convey to the General who held all the cards; of course Romhain did. He was more or less the sole financial stability of the rebirthed First Order.

 

“I see you’ve adopted that flee bitten mongrel as your own?” It was cuttingly casual and Brendol stared at him for it. Of all the things to open with, he chose Nero.

“He’s a Vornskr of an impeccable breeding line, he’s not a flee bitten mongrel.” Whether he was or not, Brendol didn’t know but he was determined to get under Romhain’s skin. “You wanted me down here to discuss things. Let’s discuss, I want to get back to my family.” Romhain watched his son in law from over the rim of his glass with that familiar smug grimace.

 _“Your family.”_ The sneer made the younger male tighten his grip on the arms of his chair. Romhain crossed his legs then cleared his throat; he intimidated clients this way, the General was going to be no exception. “I’m going to leave Kendra to you. Bury her, burn her; it makes no difference to me.” He took another nonchalant sip and Brendol continued to stare. _This was his daughter he was talking about._

“You do realize…” Hux began, utterly heartbrokenly bewildered. “That your daughter is dying? You’re talking about your only daughter?”

 

“I’ve often wondered about that.” His father in law answered as he drained his glass and leaned across to top it up. “The thing is, General; when you have a woman who detests you and you do your best to keep her isolated, they’re rarely faithful. In fact, they find excellent ways of _not_ being faithful.” Brendol’s stomach lurched but Romhain continued, amused.

 

“I’m sure you’re fine though, General. The boys’…. _Unique_ hair colour is hard to deny. I’m quite sure she’s mine but who can say? Even if she isn’t, she’s been of financial benefit to me, why wouldn’t I have kept her?” The redhead felt sick. He was really talking about his dying, precious Kendra like she was little more than a diseased animal. “So, General? Are you going to burn her or bury her?” Brendol looked up, visibly disturbed by the conversation but it was about to get worse.

 

“I…. I’m not ready to make that decision yet….” Romhain’s eyes rolled with impatience.

“She’s dead, General. Make up your mind.”

“ _She’s not dead!!”_ It came out more desperate and distraught than he intended. Brendol shook his head lightly as he buried his face in his hands. He had to control himself. Romhain was ruthless; he’d exploit every weakness even if Hux didn’t know he had it.

“Not yet.” The older of the two added coldly, glass gripped and swirled. “The boys.” He looked up again though his eyes watered. “I’ll be bringing them back to Aargau with me.” As if his heart had been torn from his chest, the younger male’s breathing started to pick up and the agony started to show. _“_

_No…. You can’t…. Please don’t take them….”_

 

“And what was your plan, General?” Romhain’s tone was riddled with scorn at Brendol’s breakdown. “Arrive in front of the Supreme Leader with two screaming brats? He’ll love that.”

 _“I have a week’s leave….”_ Brendol’s voice was weak and raw with emotion. _“Give me until then. I’ll figure something out…”_ Admittedly, Romhain wasn’t all that keen on the idea of bringing his grandsons back to Aargau; then again, it wasn’t as if he’d be interacting with them. But they’d still be in his possession. With Kendra gone, they’d be his hold over the General when he had to return to Finalizer. What other choice would he have?

 

“Very well.” Romhain conceded, lowering his glass as if he was being reasonable but convinced he was going to get his way eventually. “One week. I’ll be waiting.” Even though he was struggling with them, he was sure he’d improve. He just needed time to get used to them.

 

“Will you marry again?” How could he even think about that? His wife was upstairs with blood still pulsing through her veins and air in her lungs. That aside, he already knew the answer.

“ _No._ ”

“You sound very sure.” Romhain commented with something akin to contempt. He was sure.

 _“I’ll never find another one like her. And even if I did; she wouldn’t be her.”_  Romhain cleared his throat again briefly but the arrogance echoed in it.

“Are you telling me, General, that in all the four years you’ve been married and away, your loyalties have never once…. Wavered?” Again, it was something Brendol had never considered. He was Kendra’s and she was his, even if they didn’t always get on.

 _“No.”_ The eldest of the two sat back in his chair and surveyed the other one with patronizing pity.

“You missed out.”

 

He didn’t wait to be excused; he simply got up and left. His feet automatically carried him to Kendra’s room while he combed through every possible alternative to sending his sons to Aargau with their monster of a grandfather. He wanted them with him. Even if it meant bringing them to Finalizer, a nanny droid was always an option; he’d find the best one…..

 

The horrible ambience of Kendra’s room grounded him again. Cole still sat beside the bed, at least he was more emotional than Romhain but that wouldn’t have been difficult. He also had the other child bundled warmly in his arms. The fidgety twin still lay propped on her chest; as comfortable and as placid as when his father had placed him there.

 

Brendol crawled back onto the bed and resumed his place beside his wife; nose against her cheek, intertwining her fingers with his while his spare hand rested on his son’s back. He didn’t care what Cole thought; he didn’t have the energy to acknowledge him. Cole saw everything though. Saw the way he gently squeezed her hand, the way his nose very subtly stroked up and down her cheek but mostly, the way his lip trembled and his eyes filled as he did all those things.

 

“You continue to amaze me.” Brendol’s watery gaze lifted to his brother in law when he spoke. He didn’t reply, simply immersed himself in his wife again. “Right up until before she slipped into a coma, she showed you just how much she fucking detested you. And here you are like a kicked dog.”

 

Brendol didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t. He continued in the small endeavours to give her comfort as if he hadn’t heard Cole. The General of the First Order was in the throes of anguish and heartbreak before him; it was a pitiful sight.

 

“That’s devotion.” Brendol looked up again, grief ironed into his voice.

_“_ _She didn’t deserve this. Any of it.”_

“She didn’t.” Cole agreed with his own melancholy as his eyes flowed from his brother in law to his sister. “I’m fourteen years older than her. I remember her growing up so clearly.  She was the most beautiful baby. She was always so…. Dreamlike. She just kind of breezed through…. She was, and you’ll find this hard to believe, gentle. She was so sweet and happy, nothing fazed her. And then…. She married you.”

 

Hux had watched Kendra from afar; he had seen glimpses of the things Cole was talking about.

 

 _“_ _I didn’t know what else to do.”_ The redhead confessed, speaking not only to Cole but Kendra as well. _“She wouldn’t even look at me. All the times I went to the villa and tried to see her, she just moved to another room without a word.”_

“So you thought pushing her into an arranged, financial marriage would work?”

 _“It was Romhain’s idea. He made the offer.”_ That didn’t surprise Cole. _“I know I’m the reason she is the way she is. I know all this is my fault.”_

“You’re responsible for more than you’re even aware of.”

 

That struck a chord of confusion. What did that even mean? His eyes drifted from Kendra and went back to Cole; he didn’t even need to voice the question.

 

“She’d fucking kill me if she knew I told you this.” The eldest of the two sighed as he checked the infant in his arms; he was still asleep. “When Kendra was twenty, she met a man by the name of Lon Neerva.  He was a good man; decent, decent bloke. He was an officer in the Republican army; he loved her dearly and she him, he worshipped the ground she walked on. Of course, my father hated him. He said he _wasn’t good enough_ for Kendra which translated as there was no financial gain or power to having him in the family. It didn’t matter to her. She was happy.”  The more Cole spoke, the more Brendol sank further into torment. 

 

“They were together for nearly three years when Lon came to me and told me he wanted to marry Kendra, that he was going to ask her on her twenty third birthday. I gave him my blessing because I knew my father wouldn’t.” The darker of the two gave a quiet sigh, unsure if he wanted to continue or not. He decided he had to.

 

“A few days before Kendra’s birthday, Lon went missing. Less than a week later, she was told she was marrying you; no ifs, ands or buts.” Brendol had a hard time digesting this. He believed every word but he didn’t think for one minute that she’d been snatched away from someone else to be handed to him. Cole wasn’t finished. 

“They found Lon about a year later in a sand dune on Tatooine. Wasn’t much of him left. It was all kept quiet; everyone that knew knew that Romhain Varnett was involved. That it was best to let it lie. I never told her. It would have killed her.”

 

While Brendol tried to process the information, it became clear to him that it was possible to hate Romhain even more. Then again, he wouldn’t have Kendra if Romhain wasn’t such a vile individual. Cole got to his feet and pressed a kiss against his sister’s head. He walked around the side of the bed to where the redhead sat, still trying to comfort his wife.

 

“This is how you hold them.” The eldest male instructed patiently, displaying the correct way to hold the bundle before easing it over to the General’s waiting arms. “Make sure you support their head or they’ll hurt their neck which means A LOT of crying. You’ll have to get someone from downstairs to help you with feeding. Think about names but for fucks sake, don’t name one after yourself.”

 

Brendol hadn’t even begun to think about these things. He assumed Kendra would have names chosen but then again, they were born six weeks early. She might have thought she had more time. Cole headed to the door and opened it but stopped before he stepped out.

 

“You and I have different sides.” Cole had turned around to address his brother in law; solemn but determined. “You’ll fight for yours and I’ll fight for mine. We both love her-“ Hux wasn’t going to deny it; Cole wasn’t blind. “So we’ve been civil. But that was for her. Any amicability we had tonight dies with her.” The General couldn’t argue. They were indeed on separate sides.


	16. The Hux Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins are named and Brendol is relieved beyond belief.

Brendol lay in bed with his wife and two sons. It would have been an idyllic family setting if not for one morbid detail. She had one child resting on her chest and he had the other on his. They had both been bottle fed by a member of staff and Brendol had taken notice; it only made sense. Kendra wasn’t going to be with him much longer (he was still in denial about it), she wouldn’t be there to feed them and he would have needed to learn how to do it anyway.

 

Cole had left some time ago and the advice of names had stuck with him. His holopad was flicked through incessantly, looking for boys names; nothing too pretentious, tacky or predictable. He didn’t dare name one after himself. Kendra would haunt him. Eventually, he found them. Names that would hopefully influence their futures: Hadrian, an emperor and Killian, a warrior. There could not be one without the other. Hadrian and Killian Hux. Strong names, respectable names. He just hoped his sons would be as much so. But since they were of his stock, he was confident they would be. Looking at them now though, they were so different.

 

The one Kendra held was angsty and fidgety when removed from his mother; even the staff member who fed him had trouble when he kept squirming. He was overly attached to her and Brendol didn’t know if he was born first or second but that child was going to have a trial he wouldn’t understand when his mother died. The other baby was calm and relaxed. He slept, had his meals then went back to sleep. He hadn’t met his mother. Maybe he’d be just as attached to her as his brother. With all that in mind; which one was which?

 

 _She won’t make it through the night._ Those words had echoed in his head since he’d heard them first. In everything that had happened between now and then, they were always in the background, taunting him. He stayed as close to her as he physically could, monitoring each rickety breath as she drew it. With the names chosen and his holopad set down, he held her hand. Almost cold, he clutched it and stroked his thumb against the skin as if in a vain attempt to warm it.

 

His mind went back to what Cole had told him: the engagement Kendra hadn't even known about; the one he'd unknowingly disrupted and ultimately ended. An innocent Republican officer had died so that he could have Kendra. Brendol didn't know the extent of Romhain's cruelty but he could only assume Lon's last few hours had been horrific. It reminded him of when his own father had warned him to exercise caution when dealing with the Varnetts.

 

Marrying into the family hadn't been mentioned until later. While he'd tried to assure his father the business was purely financial, that quickly turned into something else when he saw Kendra sitting in the library with a ginger cat in her lap and a book in her hand. Her attention was not for Brendol. In fact, whenever their paths crossed at the villa, she ignored him. His father's warning had fallen on deaf ears. He became a slave to Varnett money but he also became a slave to Kendra.

 

He had gone to Aargau with the intention of securing funds to at least begin the construction of Starkiller Base. He met with Romhain Varnett (the one his father had warned him about) with various plans, blueprints and files to give the exceptionally wealthy male an idea of what he would be financing. Romhain accepted wholeheartedly, beyond pleased with what he saw.

 

Brendol left Aargau with not only funding and the guarantee of whatever else he needed in terms of support but the promise of the hand of the stunning creature that had captivated his attention whenever he saw her. His wife had always done what she wasn't supposed to. He stayed awake during the night, exhausted but unable to sleep. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. The new father was determined to be there to lift the infants away and shield them from trauma after their mother took her last breath. He didn't need to. She made it through the night. Kendra was weak but when morning broke, she was still alive.

 

It gave Brendol a small sliver of hope. Regardless of their mother's improved (?) condition, he decided to give her fragile chest a break. With both boys placed back safely and warmly in the cot, Brendol took his opportunity to hold his wife again (maybe for the last time) without the worry of accidentally hurting either of his sons. He had not yet resigned himself to Kendra's fate but it slowly started to occur to him that he might lose her after all. He started to drift off with his dark haired beauty in his arms; somewhat safe in the knowledge that she might live to fight another day.

 

When Brendol woke maybe an hour or so later, his wife was gone. Literally. She was no longer in the bed. Panic ripped at Brendol as he clambered up and looked over the side, thinking she might have fallen off somehow. He stared at the empty space, panting with confusion and dread.  Then he heard it: a soft, breathy weeping. Still staring at the spot, he listened and tried to diagnose its origin. _The cot._ Brendol heaved himself up and looked across; sure enough, there she was. On her knees, Kendra clung to the new-born’s bed for dear life, desperately tried to reach her hand through the bars to touch the baby nearest to her.

 

Her legs had obviously given way by how her hand was up high on the bar and the strange way her legs were splayed; it seemed she hadn’t been strong enough to hold herself up any longer. Not surprising when she had literally pushed two human beings from her lower quarters the day before; of course there was going to be damage. Brendol was off the bed in an absolute instant and before Kendra knew what was happening, she felt two strong hands on her upper arms. She was tenderly eased back against her crouched husband’s chest as he rubbed her arms in an attempt to soothe her.

 

“They’re fine.” He told her reassuringly, continuing to rub her arms; her weeping had died down to soft sniffles of relief. “You’re fine. I’m going to pick you up and bring you back to bed.”

 _”But I need them….”_ Kendra protested weakly, unable to remove her eyes from the two tiny forms through the bars in the cot. _“I need them with me….”_

“I’ll bring them to you.” Brendol promised faithfully in her ear from over her shoulder. “But first, you need to go back to bed.”

 

He did as he promised. Kendra was lifted and brought back to bed. However, when Kendra watched her husband approach her with a baby in each arm, she broke down again. The weight of both of them on her chest was relished as her shaking arms wound around them and cuddled them close to her. Her head lowered and each child was nuzzled and kissed with affection beyond affection. More like love she hadn’t been sure she would have been around to give them. She knew nothing about them; not their names, their genders, which had come first but they were precious and with the way she held them just then, she didn’t think she’d ever let them go.

 

The female couldn’t restrain her tears as one of them woke and made himself comfortable against his mother’s chest, the resumed pace of her pulse lulled him with ease. Kendra almost didn’t feel Brendol get back into the bed beside her; she was far too immersed with her little ones she had only just met. However, she felt the arm drape across her stomach, the lasting kiss to her temple and his chin resting against her shoulder but she didn’t stop him. If anything she looked at him in a way she never had before that made his heart flutter.

 

 _“What are they?”_ Her voice was strained; he wasn’t sure if it was from illness, crying or from the exertion her vocal chords had endured the day before. Possibly a combination.

“Both boys.” He answered, keeping his voice low so as not to disrupt the beautiful atmosphere that had developed before he checked their blankets to ensure they were warm enough. “Strong, healthy boys.”

 

Brendol watched her. The way she held them, nuzzled and cuddled them with absolute devotion made him wonder if she’d had a change of heart. The way she allowed him to be physically close to her and that heart stopping look suggested she had. He wouldn’t rush this though. His dream of his wife beside him ahead of the new Empire had almost died with her. But here she was, alive and seemingly recovering. Now that fantasy could too and she seemed to be succumbing to it herself.

 

He also had the magnificent pride of two redheaded sons and a guarding Vornskr to add to it. It was slowly coming together; both in his family life and out on the front where the war against the Resistance continued to rage. Those pests were one of his main obstacles to seizing power both for himself and the First Order. But he would be patient. Just like he was with Kendra. Patience, after all, was one of the very few virtues the General had. The new mother stroked her pale fingers through one of her sons’ hair; letting it stand up where it had been smooth against his head.

 

 _“You can’t deny them.”_ It was a very uncharacteristic stab at humour from his wife as she referred to their hair colour then flattened it again.

“No, I can’t.” Hux agreed with a small exhale of laughter. “I don’t want to though. Look at them.”

 _”_ _They’re rather handsome.”_ Kendra felt something nudge her arm and was delighted to find her loyal Nero with his tail thumping excitedly off the nightstand.

“We’re friends now.” Brendol informed her which earned him a look of mild surprise. She freed one of her hands and stretched it out to scratch under the Vornskr’s chin.

_“Hmm……”_

“I should probably com your father. Or Cole at least.” He went to withdraw from her and get off the bed but she reclaimed her hand from Nero and clutched his sleeve instead.

_“Why?”_

“You almost died, Kendra.”

 _“Did I?”_ It probably shouldn’t have surprised him that she didn’t remember.

“Yes. You petrified me. The medic said you wouldn’t make it through the night. They were here for a while; your father came to take the boys.”

 _“Oh did he now? His list just gets longer. Well, my apologies for that. Anyway, don’t bother. ”_ He didn’t even need to voice his confusion. _“If I mattered, they’d still be here. Let them wait.”_

“Cole was far more compassionate.” Brendol offered fairly as he resumed his affectionate position beside her; silently appreciative of the tips his brother in law had given him before they severed their temporary allied ties and Cole left. She was right. If they had been as worried about her as he was, they would have stayed. That would not go unchallenged when Kendra saw her brother and father next.

 

As for trying to take her children? Her father was in for a world of pain. But Brendol had stayed with her, despite her cruelty when he’d only tried to comfort her and support her. She had her own reasons for that. Now though; she was exceptionally grateful not only for his company but with doing his best with the boys, plenty of it she didn’t even know about.

 

_“Did you name them?”_

“Hadrian and Killian.” Kendra looked down to both children still resting on her chest, accepting the names with a gracious nod.

_“I like them. But which one is which?”_

“I’m not sure yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Thilbofilth and Queenrae99 - Because I was afraid of what you'd do to me!


	17. Com Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol's week at home is a mixture as Kendra recovers. Even she's having trouble figuring it out.

Who knew that the man who ordered the destruction of five planets with just one blast would be so caring, attentive and considerate with his post-birth wife? Certainly not said wife. Or maybe she hoped he wouldn’t be; she wasn’t quite sure. After countering several of Kendra’s protests, he eventually wore her down and she grudgingly allowed him to take the boys from her chest to put them back in the cot.

 

“You need to rest and be able to breathe freely.” He pointed out staunchly with a comatosed Hadrian in his arms; Killian was already in the cot and making his displeasure at being moved from his mother’s naturally comforting warmth known. Brendol could see in her face that she wanted them back but his arguments were too persuasive. Their combined weight did take a toll on her recovering chest and she did need a break but she was hesitant to part with them.

 

“Just until tomorrow.” He added as Hadrian joined his brother. Kendra’s plain supper was small and Hux curved his lip at it but the portion was purposely kept small so as not to intimidate her; queasiness still haunted her from time to time. There was still plenty he didn’t understand about his wife’s condition and the challenges that life after labour would bring.

 

Getting comfortable with walking again was one of them hence why she had collapsed trying to lean into the cot. The other was the seemingly constant aching in between her legs where her muscles were weak after the boys were born. Even though he didn’t understand all those things, he made the effort and part of her wished he wouldn’t. The other (smaller) part was somewhat flattered. With her meagre meal finished, Brendol helped her over to the cot to say goodnight.

 

They settled down together; he didn’t really ask permission but she was so tired that it didn’t make a difference. Besides, the company was nice.... Wasn’t it? Kendra’s head rolled onto her husband’s shoulder where her slumbering breath tickled his collarbone; still he found it difficult to sleep. With one arm wrapped around her shoulder and the other crossing her stomach to meet his other hand, she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him knowing; unlike last time.

 

But the closeness had been craved for some time and now he was awake out of gratitude and fear. He wasn’t unknown to be paranoid; especially since the Resistance blew up Starkiller Base and now, he wasn’t taking any chances. If she took ill during the night, he would be there. She lay on her side against him while he lay on his back, resting his cheek against her head to be close enough to monitor her breathing. He drifted eventually.

 

“They’re fine.” He assured her as she woke in the dark, early morning to the sound of one son crying which roused the other. She was still in his grasp and he was unwilling to relinquish her; someone else was already tending to them. The low glow of the fireplace allowed her to make out someone moving by the cot; they were indeed being tended to under Nero’s watchful eye.

 

The Vornskr didn’t really move from the cot only to eat and to relieve himself. Even Brendol admired the animal’s dedication to the two small boys. It didn’t sit right with her though; that her children were being seen to by someone else. It would be discussed in the morning but for now, she didn’t need too much encouragement to go back to sleep; he gave it to her anyway.

 

Kendra woke after Brendol but he still held her as guardingly as he did the night before. The female was greeted with an adoring kiss against her temple to which she closed her eyes again. Affection was fine but he seemed to be giving himself a false impression.

 

“Don’t get out of the bed.” The quiet instruction made her look up with something of indignation but he had already disappeared into the bathroom. She took no notice until he reappeared, pulled back her sheets and gathered her up into his arms. _“_

 _What are you doing?!”_ The hiss was born of surprise and nerves as she involuntarily clung to his shoulders and looked down for the duration of the short trip to the bathroom. While she thought he had merely been using the bathroom just as part of his morning routine; she was faced instead with a full, hot bathtub.

 

“Are you trying to tell me something, Brendol?” She asked pointedly with an arched eyebrow as she was set down temporarily and flinched against the cold as he lifted her nightdress over her head. She didn’t remember giving permission for that either. Kendra bundled up her hair with a clip and several small black pins; a quick, messy sort of bun high at the back of her head.

“Stop being difficult.” He murmured and swept her up again but this time gently lowered her into the water. Almost instantly, the consistent ache between her legs was numbed by the glorious heat. Kendra breathed a blissful sigh and lay back with her eyes closed. She assumed he’d leave but she was disturbed a moment or so later when he told her to sit forward from beyond the darkness of her lids.

 

She did but stiffened when she felt the entirety of his naked body slide in behind hers.

“I hope you realize you’re not getting anything.” The remark was testy and he knew what she meant. He responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and gently pulling her back against his chest; he put it down to hormones.

“I wasn’t looking for anything.” With his legs on either side of her and her back flat against him, she would have felt something else if his statement wasn’t true. She didn’t feel it. What she did feel was his lips pressed gently against the back of her neck and his hands ever so lightly caressing her stomach under the water. That wasn’t where the ache was but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

 

“I don’t like the boys being tended to by someone else.” She finally voiced her concern and Brendol removed his lips from where they’d drifted on her shoulder. Instead his chin was placed there.

“You’re not strong enough yet.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Kendra responded, miffed by his lack of faith but she too had her doubts. “I should at least be feeding them myself.” Hux sighed; he should have known she’d be back to her usual stubborn self sooner or later. At least it was in relation to the boys and not him. He hoped to the Gods that wouldn’t change.

“They’re accustomed to bottles.” He answered quietly, keeping his voice low because of his proximity to her ear.

“I don’t care.” Kendra was resolute. “They should be feeding from me. It’s bad enough I missed the first few hours of their lives, I need to bond with them.”

 

“Killian is already attached to you.” Her husband pointed out, lazy from the heat. “He has been since before you woke up. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him if you died.” Kendra didn’t realize how close she’d come to never seeing her children and Brendol wasn’t about to scare her by giving details.

“All the more reason then. I should be doing it. I’ll start tomorrow.” She wasn’t going to be swayed.

“Did you intend on it initially?” He asked, leaning around her shoulder slightly to get a glimpse of her face. He already knew she had made drastic alterations to her diet to sustain the twins but he didn’t know if those changes would extend to providing nutritious breast milk.

“Of course I did!” His gaze was met with something of impatience with the slight turn of her head. He conceded and the couple lapsed into silence as their minds claimed different thoughts.

 

Brendol’s nose lined with Kendra’s spine, his forehead resting just between her shoulders. It was more affection than she knew what to do with and from someone never would have expected it from more than four years previous. The last time she saw him before she went into labour; they had torn metaphorical chunks from each other. She didn’t regret it then and she didn’t regret it now. He’d deserved everything she’d given him except the holo.

 

Even if Cole had been right (and Brendol had more or less confirmed it for him), what had he even based those feelings on? Constant cruelty? Vicious remarks? Ruthless undermining at every turn? And how did he respond? Devotion, adoration and concern. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she wasn’t comfortable with this. Any of it.

 

Brendol’s eyes were closed and his breathing deep as he held his wife close to him. When he’d sat alone after Romhain’s interrogational visit after Starkiller, he thought he’d been clear in what he wanted or rather what he needed. Sons. He thought it would take longer, that fate (to spite him) would give him daughter after daughter after daughter but no. He’d been amazed at two sons in the first birth.

 

They had taken his breath away and been exactly what he had wanted back then. If his feelings for Kendra had been different, he would have said she’d fulfilled her duty and he no longer needed her. He would have been free to indulge himself in other women and mistresses at his pleasure. In a marriage that was both financial and political (to a degree), that was probably how he was expected to feel. He didn’t. He needed her more now if anything. Hence his current position.

 

“When will you return to Finalizer?” The question woke him from his thoughtful daze and his unwarranted affection continued with a kiss against her shoulder.

“I was given a week when you went into labour.” He answered softly, barely lifting his lips from her milky skin.

“Five days, perhaps. I daren’t go against the Supreme Leader at a time like this. Besides, Kylo Ren is probably running feral as it is. The damage could be untold by the time I get back.” He felt Kendra’s nod but her face was emotionless. _Five days._

“When will you be back again?” He took this as a good sign. She might miss him this time.

“Impossible to know.”  He was only back a day or so and already thinking about his next visit. In that sense, the boys would grow without him. It would be like coming back to different children each time.

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can and for as long as I can but that might only be a few days.”

 

The General got out first; he dried himself and gave his wife a few moments to soak alone as he did so. Just as he had helped her in, he helped her out and dried her down so she wouldn’t have to bend. He noticed the pink vertical lines stretching up her stomach and her thighs, the signs that she had in fact carried children. He wasn’t reviled by them or disgusted; simply fascinated as he had been when he had been trying to impregnate her. It seemed he stared for too long. Kendra’s throat was cleared and the towel was released from between his fingers into her own grasp.

 

“I can do that myself.” She didn’t like the idea of being naked and raw around someone else, husband or not. Instead, she encased herself in white, fluffy material and only then did he sense her discomfort.

“I didn’t mean-“

“Check on the boys.”

 

The next five days were more of the same. He slept in her bed and she let him though she wasn’t sure why. She put it down to having him to help her and to ease the boys while she recovered. Those five days had been invaluable while she gathered her feelings and emotions and tried to sort them while leaving hormones out of the equation. It was a more daunting task than she realized until she was knee deep in it.

 

Especially when he was around constantly, when he never left her side. She had never been affectionate with him and that would never change; her affection was spent on the boys and Nero though she could see the disheartenment in his face when he tried and she didn’t respond. A kiss, a touch, a murmur of _good morning_ or _good night_ ; nothing. Everything was scattered; she just needed it to be clear.

 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Brendol promised in full uniform with his forehead against hers. As usual, the sentiment wasn’t reciprocated but he was bigger and stronger than her; the closeness had been somewhat forced. She was still very enclosed in herself, very different to how she used to be. Her responses used to be fiery and vicious; if he initiated something she didn’t want, she would spare absolutely no time, effort or even his feelings until he knew it. Now though, it was just despondency, as if she was resigned to it.

 

“I know you will.” She replied quietly, eyes off to the side as if she had no interest in the contact. How else could she piece it together if she didn’t remove herself from it completely and look at it objectively?

 

He’d already said goodbye to the boys and hoped they wouldn’t be walking and talking by the time he returned next.

 

“Com me.” He told her with the light pressure of his forehead still against hers. “Even if you don’t need something. Com me and let me know how you are.” He released her forehead from his to a small grimace of a half-hearted smile.

“I will.” A small swelling in his chest and a quick peck to his wife’s lips would be the last he’d have of her for a while. He tried not to remind himself of that as he left the bedroom and out to where his shuttle waited.


	18. Change of Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol's first visit home since the birth of the twins is a mixture of good, bad and downright unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lads.... This was hard.

The General tried not to be too put out when his wife didn’t com him like she said she would. He put it down to her being busy with the boys or being tired after a long day with them. He’d also noticed (before he left) that breast feeding did take a toll on her; she had been more drained than she probably would have been if she wasn’t feeding them herself.

 

He placed it at the back of his mind and tried to focus on his duties. If it was possible, the First Order was slowly becoming stronger, stronger than it had been at this stage before Starkiller was destroyed. If things continued at this rate, a new Imperial Empire would rise sooner than anyone would have thought. Hux included.

 

He tried to com her himself but was always told she was either resting or in the bath or out in the garden with the children. At least he was getting explanations rather than just being ignored like last time. He ended every com by requesting that said staff member would tell his wife to contact him, that he wanted to speak to her.

 

Those were the days that he was particularly vulnerable. He’d just been told that Kendra was asleep after a difficult night; Hadrian was sick (just an upset tummy, he was assured, nothing serious) and his mother refused to let others care for him, she insisted on doing it herself.

 

When the next available slot for personal time came up, Brendol seized it with both hands. It may have only been for three days but he would take it. Any length of time to see his family was precious. He’d barely been gone three months but it was too long. The General could scarcely wait to see how big they’d gotten, if their hair was the same colour, if Killian was still crankier than Hadrian. He also found himself looking forward to seeing Nero. Kendra though…. Kendra was his main draw.

 

He hardly expected her to be waiting for him in the entrance hall; she didn’t know he was coming after all so he followed the playful giggles and sweet coos with curiosity. They led him to Kendra’s bedroom. He waited outside the door and listened, dumbstruck. _She was laughing. Genuinely laughing. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t cruel; she was actually enjoying whatever it was she was doing._ Her glee was joined by enthusiastic gurgles and shrieking attempts at laughter; the boys.

 

Quietly, the General opened the door and found his wife with her back to him but she was bent over a changing table and her full attention on two eager infants side by side. Both nappies (though Hux wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two) were freshly changed and their focus was on their mother. Their arms flailed and their legs kicked with delight at the noises she made and the way her hair danced on them and tickled their bare chests and tummies.

 

“Don’t laugh too hard, Hadrian. You’ll wet yourself and I’ll have to change you again, my love.” Came the adoring murmur from above the two children, closely followed by a reverent kiss to either of their foreheads then a good natured blow to each of their stomachs. They were still learning about their bodies; still figuring out sensations like hunger, thirst and needing to relieve themselves. Their mother taught them by introducing different stimuli or sometimes just to get a keen reaction. They were exceptionally tactile, loving the varied touches but their favourite was Kendra’s hair. The pulling had more or less stopped by now.

 

Brendol couldn’t help but stare. His wife’s behaviour was foreign to him. He was so used to her being cold and vicious that this contrast dumbfounded him but in the most pleasant way possible. He remembered tiny snatches of gentility on Aargau before he married her, but nothing like this. Then again, how else did he expect her to be with their children? A brief bark from the bed drew his attention to Nero. The Vornskr looked him over passively but when Hux looked to Kendra, Nero wasn’t the only one who knew he was back.

 

“I didn’t know we were expecting you.” The dark haired female remarked lightly and it was impossible to tell if she was pleased to see him or not.

“I wanted to surprise you.” He answered, taking her in; the bump that had remained after the birth during his last visit was gone completely.

“Congratulations, I’m surprised.” Her demeanour had overhauled since she saw him; then again, she wasn’t speaking to the twins now. “How long do we have the pleasure of your company?”

 

Brendol had stepped into the room and found himself standing over the changing table where his two sons lay, looking up at him with endearing interest.

 

“Do they remember me?” He directed the question to his wife but never took his eyes off them.

“Hard to say.” She answered nonchalantly, pulling small clothes out of a drawer. “They’ve done a lot of growing without you.”

“I can see that.” He murmured, looking them over as he had done with his wife. They were certainly bigger, stronger and significantly better natured than before. The red hair was the same and their eyes had stayed blue. They were still magnificent.

 

“Which one is which?” She had asked that same question the day after they were born but now she was the only one who could answer it.

“Hadrian’s hair is slightly darker.” Kendra replied without looking up from what she was doing. “Killian’s hair is redder and he has a birthmark on his stomach.” Brendol saw it. The little speck near his son’s bellybutton. It appeared they had inherited Kendra’s clear complexion rather than his somewhat freckled one.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He looked back to her, forgetting she’d asked one. “How long are you going to be here?”

 

“Three days.” Brendol responded, scrutinizing her face for some sort of clue; he shouldn’t have had to work this hard to tell if his wife was happy to see him or not. He’d just have to continue to watch her. “Two nights.” Kendra’s nod was slow and understanding with her lips slightly pursed. How could one person be so closed off from deciphering?

“I take it you’ll be sleeping with me for those two nights?” It was Brendol’s turn to be surprised.

“If you’ll allow me.”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” _Progress._ “I was going to take the boys for a stroll while it’s dry before dinner.” Kendra began, his feelings of triumph unseen by her. “You can join us if you like.”

 

The boys were fed and set down for a sleep while their parents dined together. The setting was almost the same as the day she’d thrown the holo down into his lap. Except there was something of amicability this time and Nero was guarding the children. Her diet was more or less the same as when she was pregnancy, he assumed this was to maintain the quality of her milk. She didn’t seem to object to him drinking wine with his meal though she abstained for obvious reasons.

 

“They’re far more outgoing than they were when I last saw them.” Their silence had been based on full mouths and savouring flavours but he broke it in between mouthfuls. Kendra’s eyes flickered up and waited until she swallowed her Bantha meat before she answered.

 

“They were only a week old when you saw them last.” She answered, cutting up her next forkful. “Their energy levels have increased drastically. It’s also down to the milk. There are far more beneficial contents in it than regular formula. I’m glad I made the switch, it’s made all the difference.”

 

Brendol nodded as he chewed thoughtfully. There had been no way of knowing Kendra would make such a transformation. Yes, she was still aloof but she had once declared that she wanted no children of his, that she would rather hang herself from the balcony than have his children and share his bed.

 

But she was progressing. They had two striking sons and it seemed they would be sleeping together for the duration of his visit. It was a start. If she could accept these smaller details, she might start to embrace the idea of a new empire; of being an empress.

 

With dinner over with, he followed her back upstairs where she told him she would spend some time with the boys, feed them again then set them down to bed. She assured him that if he wasn’t tired then, he would be by the time it came for them to retire. With the boys settled, Brendol started to undress until he caught Kendra’s eye.

 

“What are you doing?” It was somewhat impatient. Her husband stopped and looked up with an inquiring frown creasing his brow.

“I thought we were going to bed?”

“Not in here. Last room on the right at the end of the hall. I’ll follow you when I’m ready.”

 

She didn’t keep him waiting as long as he thought she would or as long as she had before. No more than ten minutes later than when he arrived, Kendra joined him. Hair and teeth brushed and nightdress donned, he turned from the window curiously when he felt her delicate hand on his shoulder.

 

“Why-?” He was silenced as he felt the front of his tunic (which he had left on) being seized and pulled down, bringing him with it. The real silencer in it, however, was his wife’s lips firmly against his. Eyes wide in almost terror for a moment, it took a while before he started to relax and eventually return it.

 

“Kendra….” He very hesitantly parted his lips from hers and even at that, he didn’t move very far. It looked like the progress was more than he thought but he wanted to be sure he was reading the signs clearly.

 

“I didn’t think this was what you meant when you said _sleeping together.”_ With something of an annoyed tut, the younger female released her hold on his tunic.

“Well, haven’t you gotten very innocent in the last eleven months?” Kendra retorted, a taint of scorn laced into it as she stepped back and put a few feet of a careless saunter between her and her husband. “If you don’t want to, all you have to do is say so, Brendol.”

 

She was goading him just as she had the night their vicious game started after Starkiller. Naturally, she didn’t get very far. Before Kendra could take another step, she found herself sandwiched between the wall and her husband’s solid form, furiously reciprocating a raw kiss that echoed eleven months of starvation.

 

Trying desperately not to break it, Brendol frantically started to disrobe and when he did eventually find his lips free, hers had taken the initiative to move to his neck; kissing and marking him painfully in a way that he would have trouble explaining and covering when he did return to Finalizer. He certainly didn’t stop her though.

 

His reluctance had purely been born of concern; the twins were only three months old and she’d almost died in labour. Who could blame him for thinking her initiating this was a little strange? Then again, he didn’t understand the healing and post-birth process very well. He’d often wondered when (or rather, if) they would get back to this but never in a million years did he think it would be this soon. Suddenly, her lips were dragged from his and his chin was snatched and held roughly to make him look at her.

 

“You will not be gentle.” She began almost coldly, still holding him. “You will not be slow, you will not be considerate. Am I clear?”

 

He wasn’t. If that was what she wanted, he’d give it to her. He knew she was fierce enough to stop him if she was in discomfort. Swept up and tossed carelessly on the bed, the youngest Varnett goaded him again until she felt his full weight down against her.

 

He wasted no time in stripping her nightdress over her head and tossing it over the side of the bed with the scattered remains of his uniform. Pinned hard against the mattress of the unused bedroom, she writhed underneath him and groaned at the suckling of her neck and collarbone but he was swiped at when he went near her breasts.

 

Understandable when he looked closer and noticed her nipples were an angry red and somewhat swollen; the price of giving her children everything they needed, he assumed. He steadied himself above her and pushed in to a grateful hiss from the woman beneath.

 

That animalistic wrestling of lips and tongues resumed, open mouthed and wet as the General started to find his pace after being out of practice since Hadrian and Killian were conceived. He soon found it and the experience and sensations soon became very familiar.

 

Kendra moaned unashamedly with every harsh thrust her husband delivered, it was relief.

 

“Am I hurting you?” Hux asked, choking slightly on a pant.

_“No.”_

“Are you sure?”

 _“Shut up, Brendol. You’re ruining it.”_ He didn’t ask again. The sound of chasing satisfaction and bedsprings took over with the occasional creak of the wooden headboard as he gripped it for leverage and depth. Hux broke his lips from his wife’s and laid his forehead affectionately against hers though it didn’t really match with the crashing of their hips beneath the sheets.

 

The closer Kendra felt herself to her peak, the closer she got to Brendol. One arm draped around the back of his neck, her other hand pressed lightly against his chest, her forehead resting against his shoulder and her hips lifting at speed to help him along. It was hardly apologetic of her earlier snaps but the General would take it. Anything, he’d take it. The significantly smaller female stiffened first and her husband ploughed on to bring her as close as he possibly could even though he wouldn’t be far behind her.

 

Their kiss was continued fervently, almost in urgency of their impending orgasms, like a pressure release valve, something to distract themselves so they would not lose control. Without warning, Kendra’s nails latched hard into her husband’s back, causing him to draw back with a snarl of pained arousal.

 

He’d missed this; the addictive savagery. He’d almost forgotten that they had two small, pure babies depending on them and no doubt, in the morning she would greet them with the kind, maternal disposition he had seen earlier that day.

 

 _“Kendra….”_  He breathed helplessly, burying his face in her neck in search of that intoxicating scent; there it was and he found it untainted by the smell of baby sick. There was no specific reason for the sigh of her name; simply recognition of her and the pleasure she provided him with rising in his lower quarters.

 

The way she hugged in around him, the way she clung to him that long, drawn out whimper of absolute ecstasy told him he was on his own. He watched her post-orgasm panting and it gave him the rush he needed.

 

One final, ruthless thrust and he spilled his contents though neither of them took any notice. Gasping for air and trying to ease his thundering heartbeat, his entire frame was almost stiff with the effort. _“_

 

 _Lie down.”_ His wife murmured, shifting the blankets so that he had room to do so. When he at last had some control of himself, he eased out of the mother of his children and collapsed down onto the bed beside her, the ache in his back still throbbed lightly. Whether he was bleeding or not, he didn’t know and he wasn’t about to put his body through more stress to twist and turn to find out.

 

Regardless of the pain, he shifted over in the bed and gathered his exhausted wife into his arms. She continued to surprise him. Instead of rolling her eyes and tutting or dragging herself out of his grasp; she succumbed to it. She fitted in against him, her head on his chest and an arm draped across his waist.

 

 _“What time do you have to return?”_ It was lazy pillow talk but he welcomed it.

“17.00, the day after tomorrow.” He answered almost sleepily. _“_

_That’s an odd time.”_

“I have a holo conference at 19.00. Time zones outside the system can be an inconvenience.”

_“Hmm…. I need you to come and see me before you leave. There are things we need to discuss.”_

“Such as? Why can’t we discuss them tomorrow?”

_“_ _Why do you have to question everything?”_

The next night was more of the same for no one knew how long. Brendol certainly didn’t know but he would try to make it as soon as possible. As requested, he visited the small parlour beside her bedroom just over an hour before he was due to depart.

 

The connecting door between her bedroom and the parlour was kept open so she would immediately be alerted if the boys needed her. The General (in full uniform) sat opposite his wife but had no idea what to expect. She looked nearly rattled, unnerved? To see the usually confident female in such a way put him on edge.

 

“ _Brendol….._ ” Kendra began uncertainly, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the untouched tray of tea in front of her. “ _We have an unusual history, you and I. For three years, you were scarcely around and when you were, we did nothing but swipe at each other. I won’t even begin to talk about prior to those three years. But…. I don’t know…. Since the boys were born, since I became a mother, I just needed to re-evaluate everything and think about what I need.”_ Kendra finally looked up and her expression was impossible to read. Hux just looked confused but still nervous.

 

“ _I’m extremely grateful for everything you’ve done. For coping with the boys while I was unwell. And thinking about the way we used to be, it shows a great level of maturity._ ” Kendra adjusted herself in her chair and she still did her best to actually look at her husband.

“ _They are my primary concern now. Their wellbeing is paramount to me and I’m sure you’ll agree that any petty arguing we used to do wouldn’t be healthy for them. Or us. With that in mind, I think it’s best that we stop locking horns._ ” Brendol swallowed and sat forward in his chair; this was promising, like she was finally going to stop fighting him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

 

“ _My mother left me a villa on Naboo…._ ” Kendra’s gaze had dropped again and her voice echoed the discomfort he thought he saw traces of. “ _I’m going to take the boys there_ -“ Brendol cut in, significantly better about the exchange.

“A change of scenery is an excellent idea. It’ll be good for them to get some sun and I’ll follow you there on the first break in command.” Kendra looked back up, confused. Whatever way the light came in the window, it caught the silver band on his finger – he just wasn’t getting it.

 _“_ _No, you won’t.”_ The younger of the two breathed with a tiny shake of her head but her eyes never left him.

 

Hux stared at her. It made no sense. Everything she had said only made sense to him that she was ready to properly be his wife. But now….

 

“I… I don’t understand.” Kendra squirmed in her seat and for the first time, she genuinely looked sorrowful for him. It wasn’t a pleasant thing for her to do and she certainly took no pleasure in it.

 _“_ _Brendol….”_  Her pale hands clasped anxiously in her lap and she _had_ to look at him. “ _Before I got pregnant, I told you that I didn’t want to raise my children in a loveless household…. And when you and I are under the same roof, that’s what this is. It’s not fair on them and it’s not fair on us….”_

“Kendra….”

 _“_ _Let me finish….”_ He was resolute, determined. Cole knew he loved her; it seemed he hadn’t relayed the information.

“No. It’s not loveless…” Her eyes closed in despair before hesitantly opening them again. _Why did he have to say that….?_

 _“Brendol….”_ The pain and pity was obvious; it seemed to increase the longer he sat there and looked at her, forlorn. _“You know that nothing you feel for me is requited, don’t you? You know I can’t and won’t **ever** feel the same way about you that you feel about me. I don’t want my children to endure that.” _

That seemed to bring it home. Internally, he crumbled but externally, he had to hold himself. Dumbstruck, he had to force out the words.

 

“Are…. Are you leaving me?” Kendra’s answer was a silent but most intense look of melancholy. She’d spoken the truth; she could and never would feel the same but that didn’t change the fact that the General of the First Order was trying to comprehend this like a child.

 

“You’re leaving me….” Brendol’s chest started to heave ever so slightly and his pale hands clenched tight into fists while he fought to control himself, any look of misunderstanding or pain had melted into fury.

 

“Why?! Why now?!” Kendra’s face fell even more; how could he not see it?

_“We weren’t hurting anyone before. You were away and I preferred being on my own. It worked. We decimated each other; we destroyed each other, toyed with each other. We’re parents now. It’s not-“_

“What about last night?! And the night before?!” His wife was still dejected but not quite guilty, despite how he had grasped at straws and now eyed her nastily with flared nostrils.

_“I used you. I wanted it and you complied. There was nothing in it.”_

 

Brendol’s jaw clenched and his icy eyes had never moved from Kendra from the time he sat down. Her own eyes averted to the side as if trying to shift his burning gaze. His personal life as he knew it was gone. Any hope he had of winning his wife and having her ahead of the empire was also gone. If he didn’t fight her.

 

Before Kendra knew it, the General was on his feet and had stormed towards the bedroom door; he couldn’t take anymore. Just before he slammed it and she closed her eyes again in despondency; a vicious, possessive hiss floated from the doorway that would haunt her.

 

**_“You won’t get away that easily.”_ **


	19. Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Finalizer has someone who sends out helpful but annoying com messages. Kendra is just about coping with both the boys on her own but Brendol adds to her frustration by turning up on fucking Naboo.

The shuttle on the return journey was agonizingly slow. He felt as if the little ship was purposely trying to drag out the journey and keep him that bit closer to Kendra; no matter how hard he tried to push it, it seemed sluggish.

 

The last thing he wanted to endure was a holoconference but it seemed he would have to brave it, despite the overwhelming fury that still punched him repeatedly in the stomach. It was obvious in the way his boots pounded on the polished floor of the Finalizer and the way he sat rigid in his chair, watching one form in particular.

 

 **“Are there any other matters that we need to attend to?”** One of the holograms asked and there seemed to be a consensus that business was finished with. Not quite.

“Lord Varnett!” The General barked suddenly and Romhain’s hologram looked in Brendol’s direction as if he’d only just realized he was there.

**“General! What can I d-“**

“I will be contacting you on your personal com tomorrow regarding a private matter. Be sure that you answer.” Romhain’s small, holographic form was big enough for his son in law to see the nostril flare at the order; it could only be about Kendra. “We’re done here.”

 

General Hux’s rage subsided when he returned to the comfort of his own company. Instead, it subsided into utter grief. She didn’t want him. She had never wanted him. She would never want him. She’d made that painstakingly clear. He sat in an empty, scarcely used control room with a gloved hand knotted into his fiery strands; wedding ring and scan clutched desperately in the other.

 

Another dry sob broke the silence of the room as the powerful individual rocked back and forth, slowly and helplessly in his chair. It seemed to be the only way to comfort himself, like how he’d seen Kendra comfort the boys.

 

 _The boys…._ When would he see them again? A month? Six months? Twelve months? Twelve years? He couldn’t bare it; the idea was absolutely diabolical. _How could she? What have I done to deserve this? All I wanted was my family; my wife, my sons….._

 

 **“You know, it’s easier to break something.”** The redhead looked up to find his pitiful condition had already been observed. Hair askew, posture hunched, cheeks tear stained and all under the watchful eye of Kylo Ren.

 

The Knight had lost his mask to Starkiller and had toyed with the idea of getting another commissioned but decided against it when he noticed the prestige of the scar that stretched across his face. What could be more menacing than that? Proof of surviving a lightsaber to the face (or at all) was a statement of power that Ren now wore constantly.

 

“ _I’m not taking anger management advice from you!_ ” Hux hissed, rounding on his colleague and not bothering to hide the anguish. Ren had seen it; what was the point?

 

 **“Do you think it’s acceptable for you to be seen like this?”** Ren asked, unperturbed by the redhead’s venom. Hux ignored him; he didn’t owe the dark male an explanation. **“If you saw another officer in such a simpering state, you would have them reprimanded or reconditioned.”**

 _“I’m not just another officer.”_ Brendol breathed, staring Ren down and finding himself quickly growing tired of his presence. _“I’m the General of the First Order.”_ In one swift movement, his chair had been kicked back; his hand had left his hair and now both supported him against the control panel with the scan and ring wedged underneath. **_“WHY CAN’T SHE SEE IT??!!”_**

 

 **“So are you going to tell me….”** Kylo Ren began nonchalantly, as if Hux wasn’t having a small meltdown. **“What has the General of the First Order in such a dreadful condition?”** Hux’s panting had begun before he kicked back his chair and had become gradually worse.

“Leave me be, Ren!” Brendol spat though he was sure Ren didn’t know his first name.“It’s none of your concern!”

 **“Would you rather I went into your head?”** Hux stared his colleague down with vicious offense, his chest still heaved almost uncomfortably.

 

“My wife left me.” It just fell out. He couldn’t stop it. If Brendol could convince himself that Ren had extracted the information rather than a weakness on his own part, he would rather that. “She…. She left me.” Saying it out loud in itself was a realization; he slowly sat back down and seemed to stare at nothing though those two precious items stayed in his hand. He wasn’t talking to Ren anymore, more like laying out the chain of events in his mind in a vain attempt to understand them better.

 

“I don’t know what I did wrong…. She never wanted for anything, the money was plentiful, and I tried to help her through the birth of the twins…. I cared for them and her as she teetered between life and death and…. She left me.”

 

Kylo Ren was untroubled by the personal nature of the General’s outburst.

 

“ **I don’t recall seeing children upon my last visit.** ” Ren leaned casually against the doorway of the control room, dark eyes sweeping over Hux with something predatory in them; as if enjoying this weak display that the redhead couldn’t help but put on.

“They were conceived some time after you left.” Hux answered quietly, still somewhat removed from the conversation and the implications of giving Ren this information. The image of a scrawny, naked Hux doing his utmost to pleasure the dark haired goddess Ren remembered shot through his head and he couldn’t decide if it amused him or not.

 

It was no secret that the Knight and the General were constantly at odds. Hux had waded through snow and ice to retrieve Ren and given him a place to recover while the darker haired male only seemed to repay him by destroying his ship on a regular basis.

 

By that standard, Hux should not have been surprised by Ren’s calloused attitude to a conversation that (in truth) they shouldn’t have been having. Especially when those dark eyes trailed to the marks on Brendol’s neck and the eyebrows raised ever so slightly. The marked one coughed quietly and lifted the collar of his tunic to block them.

 

 **“I wasn’t aware one could leave an arranged marriage.”** The offhand remark caused the General to half look over his shoulder at his colleague with disinterest.

“She’s adamant. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I _can_ do. And I certainly don’t know why I’m confiding this in you.”

 **“Have you ever taken into account that perhaps she is too _good_ for you?” ** The General turned fully in his chair now. Deep down, it was probably true but the obsession would prevent him from acknowledging it. **“A strong, capable, noble woman like that is hard to come by. Magnificent to the eye and you’re surprised that she doesn’t want to be married to _you_?”**

 

 **“Not to mention her Republican breeding and Resistance affiliations. You couldn’t have picked a worse fit. It’s almost as if you don’t know yourself at all.”** Brendol’s blood started to boil. Ren (however ruthless) was putting things into perspective. On his feet again, the redhead strode with a new purpose past the taller man and took a back route to his quarters; to be seen like this would be unacceptable, Ren had been right about that much. Tomorrow be damned, he was comming Romhain now.

 

Brendol paced his quarters, still clutching the ring and the holoscan. What was he going to achieve by going to Romhain? Surely if he returned to Arkanis and tried to reason with her, she might change her mind. But Kendra wasn’t on Arkanis anymore. She’d taken the boys to Naboo. Where on Naboo, he didn’t know; it could be anywhere.

 

**“General. It’s rather late.”**

“This is important.” Brendol answered and tried not to sound too dejected while Romhain sounded flat out annoyed.

**“I was under the impression this com would be taking place tomorrow.”**

“I decided it couldn’t wait.” That wasn’t entirely true. Even if he were to get the coordinates of the villa from Romhain tonight, he wouldn’t be able to use them until the next break in command when personal time was available. He was going to do his utmost, his absolute best to show his wife that her best interests were indeed in his heart; her and the boys.

 

 **“And what is so important, General?”** Brendol hesitated but knew better than keep Romhain waiting.

“I need the coordinates to Kendra’s villa.”

 **“You mean Sabina’s villa? Whatever for?”** Sabina? Was that Kendra’s mother’s name? He tried to comb through his mind without taking too long. He didn’t even know his own mother in laws name after being married to her daughter for over four years.

 

“The villa on Naboo.” Surely they didn’t have too many of those? Then again, Romhain often made outrageous purchases just because he could.

**“I gathered. My question stands: Why do you need the coordinates?”**

“Kendra is there and I need to see her.” There was silence for a moment and Brendol didn’t think for one moment that there would be consequences from this conversation.

 **“And why is Kendra on Naboo and not Arkanis where she’s supposed to be?”** Brendol swallowed at the now obvious taint of danger in his father in law’s voice. It should have been an indication that this com was not one of the General’s finer ventures.

 

“Kendra…. Kendra left me earlier today.” He forced it out again with strain. This time he wasn’t talking to Kylo Ren, an outside party. He was talking to the merciless being who had made it all happen, who counted on it all staying together. Again, silence. When it passed, the foreboding only seemed to increase.

**_“_ ** **_I see….”_ **

“I need the coordinates.”

 **“I’m sure she just needs to be reasoned with, General.”** Romhain continued; his voice was even but his vile mind was calculating the implications of his daughter’s actions and how he could rectify them. **“Leave it to me, I’ll ensure she returns to Arkanis.”**

“I’d rather speak to her myself first.” Hux spoke up; Romhain wouldn’t hurt her, surely? Nothing could be guaranteed with his father in law. His daughter mattered little to him, she was a means to an end and that end was ultimately establishing himself in the new empire. However, if Kendra got her way; that dream would not only die for Brendol but Romhain as well. Yes, he was the boys’ grandfather but…. Did that matter to the General?

 

 **“And when do you expect to be leaving for Naboo?”** Hux wasn’t sure. Personal time could come up randomly and could be allotted for any number of days. It was impossible to know.

“I can’t say.” Brendol confessed, the mere thought of it frustrating him. “It could be weeks but… I think it would be wise to give her some time alone before I arrive. Just let me see her first before you try to persuade her.” _Persuade her. Generous._

 

 **“I will send you the coordinates. Let me know when you’re leaving for Naboo, won’t you? I’d like to know how this goes.”** Hesitantly, Brendol agreed. The com closed and he was left alone once more. What did he do now? All he could do was wait for the coordinates and the personal time. With his rank, he was usually informed first and so was given first refusal. His com beeped with a typed message: The coordinates. At least he had them now and could leave as soon as the time was granted.

 

Brendol got more angsty and flustered at the weeks went by. It got to the point where he was checking his com for notifications every two minutes, jumping when it beeped and dashed to check it. Of course, he was the only one permitted to check his com whenever he chose.

 

Usually, his disappointment and frustration was palpable when it was merely a warning of a spillage in a certain quadrant to be avoided or a politely worded reminder for each officer to clean up after themselves in the dining hall: bins were provided. Maybe Ren was right, maybe he should break something.

 

In some hopeless part of his mind, he hoped one of them might be from his wife. Anything. Asking how he was or when he was coming home. Telling him she and the boys missed him, that they couldn’t wait to see him. Even a single, out of place letter sent by mistake but would tell him he crossed her mind for even the briefest second.

 

His initial reaction to marriage when it was mentioned to him in his late teens was disdain. _It looks well._ He was told. _Looks respectable. The right woman will cater to your every whim._ Why did he need a delicate wife who would probably crumble while he was away? He was better off without one. Then he realized: He was the wife. And Kendra had decided she was better off without him.

 

 _Finally. Four days._ Six weeks later, the General walked with a powerful pace (he had to restrain himself from running) back to his quarters. A quick com was typed to Romhain to inform him he was leaving for Naboo; he checked his pocket for his ring and the scan (he needed to get actual holos of the boys, carrying their scan when they were nearly five months was a bit silly) and before he knew it, he was aboard the shuttle.

 

Naboo was always a beautiful planet. He hadn’t been in years but the warm breeze that greeted him was a welcome reminder. At least Kendra and the boys would be getting some vitamin D. He took in the house before him; he could understand why it was a preference. The villa on Arkanis paled in comparison. White washed walls, large windows to utilize natural light, well-tended gardens. He mightn’t want to leave if the inside was anything to go by. This was what the Varnetts considered to be worthy to call ‘home’.

 

 _“This isn’t funny!”_ Kendra hissed when her staff fetched her from her room. The boys were still asleep and their mother now walked the upper landing with her nostrils flared and her hands balled into fists during her furious stride. The head of the household thundered down the stairs and in a moment of clarity, stopped briefly to tie her night robe around her. It seemed like the sensible thing to do to keep her husband’s (?) prying eyes off her.

 

The door to the reception room was ripped open and slammed with almighty force that hurried Brendol to his feet. Her hair was still tousled from sleep but the female was more than wide awake. Small but vicious; Kendra stared her husband down for a moment and in that moment; he knew he was right back to where he’d started after Starkiller.

 

“I told the staff not to wake you. I told them I’d wait….” Hux offered quietly but his consideration didn’t interest her.

 _“Oh no, I wanted to be awake for this.”_ She bristled nastily though hormones were busily working their way through her system as well.

 

 _“What in the glorious heat of all seven hells do you think you’re doing here?!”_  Brendol tried to iron out an answer but he found himself at a loss; words had failed him. _“An answer, Brendol. **Now.** ”_

“I….” He tried helplessly, eyes desperately fixated on the woman in front of him and helplessly clutching the ring in his gloved hand. “I wanted to see the boys. And I wanted to see you. Talk to you….”

 

 _“I don’t believe this.”_ Kendra’s scorn was undeniable and Brendol winced at it. _“Did you listen to a word I said the last time we spoke? Did you take **any** of it in?” _

“I did but-“

 _“But NOTHING.”_ Kendra paced a few feet, nostrils still pulled in fury and beautiful pale face still graced with disgust. _“I tried, Brendol. I really did try. I did my best to be gentle and patient and understanding with you and whatever moronic feelings you have but it doesn’t seem to have worked. What do I have to do? What is it going to take for you to see that I want absolutely **nothing** to do with you?”_

Brendol swallowed, expression clouded with pain but it made little to no impact on his raging wife. The marks on his neck had since healed but he had trouble relinquishing where they’d come from and what they had meant to him at the time. Those broken blood vessels had given him hope and even now when she spat her venom, that hope stayed.

 

“I’m not leaving.” He didn’t know where the strength came from; it may have been soft and somewhat meek but determined.

 

Kendra’s perfect brows lifted in disbelief. What was he doing? What was he doing to himself?

 

 _“Yes, you are.”_ The disbelief still echoed with undertones of condescension. _“This is my home, Brendol. You can lay down whatever rules you want in yours but this is mine.”_ The dark haired female turned on her heel to leave the room and ignoring any protests Brendol made. _“I’m going back to bed with the boys. When I get up, you **will** be gone.”_


	20. Thirty Percent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol gets a literal rude awakening and Kendra deals with some difficult news. A very nasty ultimatum is given.

**_“I DON’T CARE!!”_ **

“I know, Kendra.”

**_“GET RID OF HIM!! GET RID OF HIM NOW!!”_ **

“Hold on, you want me to come all the way to fucking Naboo to get your husband off the landing strip?”

**_“HE’S SLEEPING IN HIS BLOODY SHUTTLE, COLE!!”_ **

“You need to calm down.”

**_“I AM CALM!!! I TOLD HIM TO LEAVE AND HE WON’T DO IT!! IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS!!”_ **

By now, Cole was holding the com away from his face, his expression utterly defeated. _Fucks sake, Hux._

**_“Get over here and deal with this!!”_ **

“He’s _your_ husband but fine.”

 ** _“You’re lucky I have more pressing matters to attend to.”_** The line went dead after that.

 

 

Before Brendol’s eyes even opened, the awakening was already rude. Various light missiles pelted off his face from somewhere beyond his closed lids; it took a while for him to realize that he was awake. His pallid face contorted with annoyance and flinched away without moving before he even opened his eyes. When he eventually did, another missile collided with his face.

 

“What…?!” He spluttered, sitting up suddenly and shaking his head as he looked around his meagre bed to find several balls of crumpled up paper. Only then did he look across to the one who tossed them: Cole.

 

“You think that just because this is Naboo that you can leave your ship unlocked?” The dark haired male asked with an arched eyebrow and another ball of paper ready to launch. Brendol smoothed one of the pieces of paper near him before looking to his brother in law, scandalized. “These are important documents!”

 

“I’m surprised you neglected your filing system by just leaving them on the desk, General.” Cole replied with the same chirpiness that the redhead remembered from their first meeting on Aargau. “Not when someone might break into your ship, ball them up and toss them at you in your sleep.”

 

“What are you even doing here?” Hux asked, displeased with Cole’s appearance and even more so with his method of waking him up. Brendol was aware he was shirtless; the small bed in the shuttle was only supposed to be for one person, two at an absolute push.

 

“I could ask you the same fucking thing.” Cole replied, nonchalant. “I got a com yesterday; my sister screaming down the fucking mouthpiece about you sleeping on her landing strip. Want to tell me what that’s about?”

 

“Kendra left me over a month ago.” Brendol answered after a moment of defeated silence; it seemed it was still difficult to talk about. “She won’t see me. What else was I supposed to do?”

 

“Yeah, I know she did. I told her to go easy on you but it seems she was planning on doing that anyway.” A small grin pulled at Cole’s lips, the observation was one made by both himself and his father. “Turns out, having kids mellowed Kendra. Who knew?”

 

Hux stared at him, his vulnerable position forgotten even as he shifted up and the sheet fell away from his naked chest. Cole tried not to look at the blinding paleness. “You knew she was going to leave me?! You knew and didn’t tell me?!”

 

“Why the fuck would I tell you? She’s my sister and you’re just the one she doesn’t want to be married to anymore. I think you forget that we’re not friends.” Brendol hadn’t forgotten that but Cole had given him advice man to man before. Maybe he was wrong to assume that curtesy would continue.

 

“She’s mighty pissed off right now.” Cole went on, sitting back in his chair and letting his eyes flicker around his unimpressive surroundings. This was how a General of the First Order travelled? Gods. “Even Nero’s angsty, normally he’s laid back but she seems to be rubbing off on him. Hope she doesn’t do the same to the kids.”

 

“You know nothing about Nero.” Hux wasn’t sure why he felt a pang of jealousy when the Vornskr was mentioned. Maybe he’d felt a little bit honoured when the animal accepted him when Kendra was on her deathbed.

 

“I know plenty about Nero.” Cole leaned in with a wicked smirk (it seemed to run in the family), as if Brendol’s ignorance was a challenge. “You think Kendra could source him on her own? I run the Corellian trade routes. I know people. I can get a Vornskr if I want one. And Kendra was specific. I know all about Nero.”

 

“Vornskr aside.” The General couldn’t remember if he was naked or not so making a move to get out of the bed to get dressed wasn’t advisable while Cole was still present. Nor was lifting to sheet to check. “I want to see my wife.”

 

“You’re not listening.” Cole replied with a small shake of his head. “She doesn’t want to see you. And I’d go easy on the ‘W’ word, General. You’re only going to make it worse for yourself.” He couldn’t help but notice the little flicker of despair in Hux’s face; it seemed the ginger knew the implications of that warning. The last thing he wanted was to be divorced.

 

“Look.” The older male felt a stab of pity; the First Order nor any of its affiliates were friends in Cole’s book but Hux was just so…. Leaning his elbows on his thighs, Cole would have to choose his words carefully.

 

“Kendra is going through some _things_ right now. She has her own crap; she’s looking after the boys, just about coping and then you reappear…. You can see why she might be a bit upset.” Upset didn’t cover what Kendra was. Kendra was livid and Cole knew it.

 

“What things?”

“I can’t say.”

“You can’t tell me my wife is suffering and struggling and not tell me how or why.”

“What did I say about the ‘W’ word?”

“She’s my wife, Cole. That’s the end of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to get changed.”

“Fine. Are you leaving?”

“Of course not. Not until she sees me.”

 

 

 

“The children will need to be weaned off breast milk as soon as possible.” The medic explained somewhat nervously to the young woman staring into the flames from her armchair, as if a word of this wasn’t reaching her. But Kendra was listening. It was just killing her. “Your condition will becoming damaging if you continue and not just to you.”

 

The medic swallowed; Kendra hadn’t moved but she was tense as if she could lash out at any second. No one liked delivering bad news to a Varnett. It didn’t matter which one.

 

“They were too close together; it’s only natural that complications will arise with something like this…. There is a chance but it’s really is a case of waiting and seeing.”

 

Kendra’s head lifted slightly and a small sigh escaped though the medic wasn’t sure from where; her lips were firmly pursed. Something predatory and protective had etched themselves into the youngest Varnett’s features; she should have known this was coming.

 

 _“What are my options?”_ Her voice was hollow; her stare on the fire unrelenting and it seemed to unnerve the medic even more.

 

“A termination could be advisable. It’s still-“

 

_“I asked you for options. That is not an option.”_

 

“Of course, madam.” The medic fidgeted; she was new, of course she drew the short straw of consulting with Kendra Varnett. Almost like a rite of passage.

 

“You will need to stop breast feeding as soon as possible; as soon as the boys can be weaned. Your body needs to focus on the baby, not producing milk. It’s still going to be difficult…. Plenty of rest, maintain your diet, abstain from alcohol and I would advise abstaining from intercourse as well.” Her cheeks burned at that stipulation while Kendra was unmoved.

 

 _“That will not be a problem.”_ The monstrous black beast at her side leaned against her chair by her hand, always on standby in case he needed her. He had guarded the boys and now he guarded this one too. Even before Kendra knew.

 

 _“And what are the chances of survival?”_ She didn’t know it but Kendra feared this answer. Breast feeding was supposed to act as a contraceptive, something in the region to ninety eight percent effective. Of course, that last two percent was growing inside her at the worst possible time.

 

The medic was quiet for a moment; that particular test result would have been heart-breaking for any mother. Especially one as seemingly emotionless as Kendra Varnett, despite the fact she had just turned down a termination. She loved her children, their father didn’t matter. This little one certainly mattered and she would do what she could for it.

 

“About thirty percent, madam.” Kendra let that sink it. That couldn’t be right.

 

  _“Survival rate?”_

 

“Yes, madam.” _Gods…._ Nero watched her the closest thing to worry marring his canine features. He’d been through this before; he’d get her through it again. If her own body didn’t have other ideas.

 

 _“Well…. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. You’re dismissed.”_ The medic gave something of a grateful nod (for not being decimated in some way) and took her leave from Kendra’s reception room. The dark haired female was alone now.

 

 _“Thirty percent….”_ Kendra repeated in nothing above a whisper; eyes welling and lip trembling. _This can’t be happening…._ She swiped at her eyes as Nero buried his head in her lap, nudging the tiny swelling gently as though reminding her.

 

 _It needs you…._ He almost told her. _It needs you to be strong._ Kendra’s arms wound around the Vornskr’s neck and her forehead met his; of course, he leaned into it. She trusted him. Thirty percent survival rate…. She’d stick it out, she’d fight, and she’d try. Nero would tell her if she won or lost. Screw diamonds; a girl’s best friend was her Vornskr.

 

 

Evening time on Naboo was pleasant, especially just outside Theed. The air was warm, the sky wasn’t particularly dark and Kendra could walk her own gardens in extreme safety with Nero at her side. With the boys settled, she had time to herself to muse. A termination was unthinkable; even with thirty percent. Nero would be vigilant; if something went wrong, he’d tell her. He was good at that.

 

Safety in her own gardens referred to her not being attacked or set upon. What it didn’t take in, however, was prying soon to be ex-husbands. Well, maybe not prying. Just because he couldn’t get into the house didn’t mean he couldn’t raid the orchard. Which he was, he hadn’t thought to bring extra food. Idiot.

 

She watched him unabashed for a few minutes in utter silence; she really didn’t think she’d ever see her husband snatching an apple out of a tree. She and Nero exchanged looks as her arms folded over her chest; she was paranoid about the swelling and it was just that: a swelling. Not a bump as she often caught snatches of in the mirror. That and the cloak would hide whatever she had.

 

 _“What are you doing?”_ The familiarity of the voice rather than the surprise of it almost made him tumble. She assumed he was more ordered and regimented than this on Finalizer. Brendol whipped round and took in his wife with something akin to relief.

 

“I overestimated our situation.” Was all he offered out of embarrassment. To her, that translated as: ‘I didn’t think you’d actually kick me out and I thought I would be fed when I got here for the duration of my visit’.

 

 _“I see….”_ Kendra replied dubiously with a perfectly arched eyebrow. Gods, he looked so helpless. If he looked bad now, she couldn’t imagine what he’d say or do if she told him what she learned earlier. That said, she’d come outside to dry out her eyes.

 

“What are you doing out here?”

 

 _“You have an awful habit of questioning me in my own home, Brendol.”_ And this **was** her home. _“Are you telling me you haven’t eaten?”_

 

Brendol looked down at the apple in his hand; he’d gone through all the nutrient bars and other random drabs of food for emergency in the shuttle. The orchard was a last resort.

 

“Not properly, no.”

 

 _“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”_ Kendra conceded with a soft sigh and turned on her heel to head back to the house with her husband staring at her back with confusion. _“Come with me.”_

Kendra didn’t sit at the table while Brendol ate; the clinking of his knife and fork against his plate served as white noise while she tried to pry her thoughts apart. Sitting almost slumped in the armchair in the adjoining room, the lightly pregnant female fought with herself. She knew what would happen. She knew if she told him, she’d never get rid of him. He’d probably beg her and it would be pathetic. Still…. Thirty percent… It haunted her.

 

Before she knew it, Brendol joined her (she didn’t remember extending that invitation) in the armchair across from hers. It had been accidental, this meeting. It wasn’t as if she had gone looking for him.

 

“Kendra.” Her fretful train of thought was broken by her name to find him staring her down intently.

 

“Cole told me you’re struggling, that there are things going on affecting you….” He looked like he wanted to reach out and touch her. For someone who had been so staunch when she first met him and continued to be up until recently, he was very good at being so maddeningly miserable.

 

 _“Cole had no right to tell you such things.”_ His wife’s reply was cutting and he couldn’t tell who was in more trouble: Him or Cole. Hux’s resolve had been dented when his wife refused to see him but maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she was _empathetic_. Cole was right: Children really affected her.

 

“Kendra, I can help you if you let me.”

_“You can’t help me. No one can.”_

“Let me try.”

 

Nero had stretched himself out the full length of the rug in front of the fire out of habit from Arkanis; he didn’t seem to realize that it wasn’t cold outside. But now he sat up and fixated himself on his mistress with a quiet grumble. As if in reasoning.

 

The dark haired female sighed at her loyal companion. Just like when Brendol had discovered her previous pregnancy, he’d demand to know why he wasn’t told; even if the baby didn’t survive. Especially if he was going to continue to visit to see the boys, he would notice either progress of devastation.

 

 _“Brendol, there’s something I have to tell you.”_ She decided it was only fair. She’d have to tolerate him anyway; it wouldn’t change their current circumstance. Her feelings wouldn’t change. He just sat there expectantly and almost nervously as the medic had been. She wasn’t that frightening, was she?

 

 _“The thing is, Brendol, last week I made something of an unsettling discovery. Something I neither wanted nor expected but plenty can change in a week.”_ It seemed he had nothing to chip in. But what else could she do to crush him after she left him? _“I’m pregnant. Six weeks in. You can do the math from there.”_

 

His mouth seemed to open and close like a fish. _Here we go._

 

“Kendra…” His ungloved hand (where his wedding ring still sat for some unfathomable reason) seemed to clench the arm of his chair. He looked neither happy nor sad, disappointed nor elated; just like he was still processing it.

 

 _“Let me be clear.”_ Kendra felt the need to be cold; to be cruel to be kind and so on. _“This is not to give you hope. This is not some miraculous answer to whatever prayers you’ve been saying. It’s quite the opposite if anything.”_

 

“I don’t see how this is anything but wonderful, Kendra.” He was too hopeful, too gentle. She didn’t like it.

 

 _“The pregnancies were too close together.”_ She had to be stoic; to break down now would undermine everything completely. _“The baby has a very small chance at survival. Barely thirty percent. I already told you; there’s nothing you can do to help me.”_

 

There was the emotion; crippling devastation. Brendol sank back in his chair with utter helplessness. His hand knotted into those fiery strands that he usually kept magnificently ordered, it didn’t seem to matter just now.

 

“Thirty percent?”

 

_“Thirty percent.”_

“There has to be something we can do….”

_“There is nothing **I** can do. We’ve been through this; this doesn’t change anything.”_

“I didn’t agree to that.”

_“Oh for goodness sake, Brendol! This is hard enough without you being pedantic!”_

“I know. So let me help you. Let me stay; let me take care of you and the boys. Stay with me and I **promise** you will not regret it.”

 _“I already regretting telling you.”_ He brushed that aside.

“Kendra, please.”

_“No.”_

 

Hux toiled to get up; he’d sunk too deep into an unfamiliar chair. She knew what he was going to do and she didn’t support it one bit. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t realize how badly he needed this until now.

 

 _“Brendol, don’t….”_ Too late. Her husband was already on his knees in front of her like he had done when he found out about the twins; splayed, desperate and needy. Kendra’s eyes lifted to the ceiling and seemed to stay there with impatience.

 

“Kendra, I will do anything. **Anything.** To have my family back. Name it and I’ll do it.”

_“Anything?”_

“Anything. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

_“You want your family back so badly? With a woman who doesn’t love you? With a child you’re not guaranteed is going to survive?”_

“Let me prove it and you might feel differently.”

 

 _We’ll see about that._ He’d kill for her. He’d die for her. Anything. Hope was fluttering again and he would do whatever was required to have his wife back in his arms, to see his sons when he wanted and to hopefully help Kendra through this more worrying pregnancy.

 

_“Brendol, if you’re so desperate for such a family life, I’ll give you the chance to have it. But you **must** leave the First Order.”_


	21. A Different Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendra and Brendol discuss the ultimatum. Brendol realizes he's made a huge mistake by telling Romhain where Kendra is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thilbofilth and Queenrae99 - Hope you like the first part. ;)

The bed was bigger and fuller than it had ever been on Arkanis. The chamber was far more luxurious and spacious than he'd experienced but it had become home. Now though, the red headed ruler just wanted to be with his family and sleep. Scarcely salvaging the energy to change into his bed clothes, the former General slid under the blankets and almost immediately; his wife's pale, delicate hand found his bare chest.

 

 _"You're late."_ The dark haired beauty murmured without opening her eyes, having turned on her side to offer her hand. Movement under the sheets told him he'd disturbed someone else. A small boy of about four emerged sluggishly, eyes barely open and crawled onto his father's chest. It seemed Killian had been waiting to settle down properly with the older male, despite the late hour.

 

"I know." He uttered, exhausted as he lifted Kendra's hand to his face and laid an affectionate kiss to her palm. He held it and it stayed on his chest just above Killian's head; the one with the more vivid hair colour, he knew them both exceptionally well by now as any father should. "The Senate are puppets; I wish they would act like it."

 

Brendol's free arm draped loosely around Killian; both for closeness and security so the small boy snuggled in closer at his father's contact, relaxing completely when his fiery head was kissed. Sometimes it amazed Hux when he thought back; there was no way he had this bond with his own father. They never even slept in the same wing, let alone the same room or bed. He put that down to Kendra.

 

_"Tell them that when they wake up. You told them you'd be here for bedtime."_

"I know. I doubt they’ll be pleased, though I'm sure the Empress will defend me from my own children."

_"Hmm.... She might not. But quite frankly, Brendol, if you can’t hold your own against two four year olds and a three year old, you don’t deserve to be Emperor."_

 

"Blunt as always, Kendra. I have Killian. Where are the others?" One prince was accounted for but two children were still missing. Kendra answered the question wordlessly by pulling back the blankets where two other children lay.

 

Hadrian was instantly recognisable with the thick red waves though it was very slightly darker than Killian's. He was wedged in the space between his parents, comatosed and splayed out as he had been when his father saw him for the first time.

 

Beside Hadrian, another smaller child lay tucked in close to Kendra’s torso, one little arm draped across its mother’s waist. The favour was returned by the guarding hand the female held against its back, a gesture of both concern and affection. A small whinge left said child and its face buried in deeper to Kendra’s chest at the sweep of cold air from the blanket being pulled back.

 

 _“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”_ Kendra soothed as she replaced the blankets, giving the child’s dark head an apologetic stroke before replacing it to its original position. Her little one settled again once the cocoon of heat engulfed them. _“Papa needed to check on you.”_

 

Brendol shifted over slightly, keeping hold of Killian and doing his best to avoid Hadrian’s spread out limbs but trying to get as close to his wife as he could. When he finally achieved it, the hand on his chest rested warmly against his cheek, her thumb stroking gently across it.

 

 _“The Senate wouldn’t know power if it struck them in the rear.”_ She assured him with purred confidence. It was a statement of absolute certainty; to reinforce the authority, leadership and prestige her husband already knew he had but sometimes needed to be reminded by the lips that only he claimed.

 

_“They are merely a pipedream of democracy for the common man but they are necessary. Let them squabble among themselves like rats. If the people think they have a voice in the Senate, they will be pacified and you can work quietly to do what you need to do. We both know what you’re capable of; my Emperor. Leave the Senate be.”_

Kendra was strong; she was beautiful and she was intelligent. She grew up around possibly the slyest man in the galaxy; she knew what it took to attain and maintain power. His wife of just over eight years knew that unquestioning obedience of the masses didn’t come easily but when it was gathered, it should be preserved in the most careful possible way. That’s why their Emperor was respected but their Empress was loved.

 

Hux couldn’t help himself. A firm, purposeful kiss was pushed to the female’s lips (who had to stretch slightly to receive it); it was returned, savoured and intensified until eventually he pulled back with a somewhat frustrated exhale. She knew what that meant.

 

 _“Tomorrow night.”_ She promised him with drips of the same vexation in her own lowered voice. _“Tomorrow night I will be yours to do with as you please. You’ve been so scarce, we need it. I’ve almost forgotten what you look like under those robes.”_

 

“Every freckle is where you left it.” Brendol replied as his lip curved into a tired, one sided grimace of smile. No matter how tired or busy the new Emperor became, his adoration for the one at his side would never waver. Previous Emperors took mistresses and concubines; what did he need those for? “Where would I be without you?”

 

 _“Not here, Brendol; that’s for bloody sure.”_ The grimace stretched at the humour and her hand was kissed again. _“Go to sleep. It’s typical you’re the last one into bed and you’ll have to be the first one up.”_ She started to ease herself to sleep again and he did the same. It was such a wonderful sensation; the tranquilized hoarseness made it even more so.

“Typical is true. I love you.”

_“I love you too.”_

 

And speaking of pipedreams…..

Brendol woke in a different bed; an empty one. There were no children cuddling him, no kisses from his wife, no day to day declarations of love and certainly no empire. Disappointment burned in the pit of his stomach; he remembered the way she looked at him, the way she kissed him, supported him and promised herself to him. The tiny mattress in the shuttle had been refused for the night since Kendra was gracious enough to let him sleep inside. That said, she had made it very clear he would be sleeping alone.

 

Just like on Arkanis, the children slept in Kendra’s room but breaking the habit of breastfeeding was already frustrating her. Still, she had to remember the greater good behind it. That thirty percent drove her and she’d be damned if the other seventy took over; it would devastate her. Every effort was already being made and that was clear when he joined her the next morning. Again, he wasn’t invited but a place was set for him regardless. They were quiet; Kendra ate and Brendol watched her.

 

Her stomach was hidden by the table but that didn’t stop his gaze seeking out the mound that carried a very small survival chance. Wasn’t it every parent’s worst nightmare? True, Brendol probably wasn’t the best model for a father but he loved the boys regardless. And he’d love this one given the chance. He was given more or less the same meal as Kendra; they hadn’t been expecting him so the menu was limited.

“I have to leave tomorrow.” Brendol uncertainly broke the silence after a mouthful or two. Kendra’s deep blue gaze flickered up, silently giving him clearance to continue. “I was hoping you would allow me to use the same room tonight. I’d like to see the boys before they go to bed, help during the night if I’m needed.”

 

She looked like she was considering it until an accepting nod confirmed it for him. Her gartro egg omelette was ignored momentarily and her Chandrilan tea was sipped; he could only assume morning sickness was plaguing her already.

 

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” A stranglehold of tension slowly unworked itself from his chest; Hux had expected to be returned to his shuttle. _“_ You may see the boys, I will be going to them in a moment but I doubt you would be needed during the night.”

They continued with their meal, a few more mouthfuls taken until Kendra cleared her throat again. Brendol had declared he would do anything, _anything_ to have his family fully together again. His dream cruelly showed it to him then returned him the normal world to force him to work for it. If he did, however, it would be his.

 

“Did you think about our conversation from last night?” He’d thought about it until his brain could no longer take it and sleep forcefully claimed him. The vision should have made that decision easier but it wasn’t that simple. The redhead swallowed the piece of Traladon in his mouth but it was a glaring few seconds before he actually spoke.

 

“I did.”

“And?”

 

His knife and fork were set down and Brendol shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, his wife noticed. He had chosen to believe that that dream had been entirely attainable; a glimpse at the future, if you will. However, it begged the question which choice he should make if he wanted that and to protect his family at the same time.

 

“I can’t.” Kendra blinked, unemotional and totally unsurprised by the answer. _Once First Order scum, always First Order scum._ Then again, she didn’t know what she would have done if he’d said the opposite.

 

 _“_ I see. Well, I gave you a fair chance, you can’t say that I didn’t-“

“Kendra, you don’t understand….”Unmoved by the small, new note of plea in her husband’s voice, the dark haired female pushed her plate aside with the intention of getting up and leaving. The interruption made her stop and stare him down; a brutal gaze that would have crippled Snoke himself.

 

“Understand? I understand plenty. Whether you know or believe it or not, Brendol; I have my own ideals, my own principals. You forget that I am not an extension of my father.” Kendra never intended Brendol to leave the First Order for her; in fact, she’d counted on him refusing. She never intended on playing happy families. Not because it wasn’t in her; it was. Just not with Brendol.

 

“Just like you, I will not be turned from my principals. There will always be corruption and **believe me** , I know corruption; I was raised by it and in the very depths of it. But are you any better? Or are you that blind? _”_ Kendra sat back in her chair, meal and tea forgotten. Nostrils flared in a pull of disdain, she continued to stare him down; that familiar feeling of whittling clawed at his chest. The strength he’d observed in the dream was barrelling to the forefront now and she wouldn’t hold back.

 

“If you think that blowing up the Hosnian System was the solution then I truly can’t comprehend how your mind works. How that can even occur to you? That all those innocent people must die at **your** hand on not one but five planets?” Kendra sat forward with her jaw somewhat clenched to scrutinize his facial expression that he was trying to keep together.

 

 _“_ Children. The same age as your two sons. Younger even. Pregnant women, just like me: All wiped out. Not even given a chance. And all for you to make a pathetic statement to the Resistance. Did you even think about those mothers? Those children? Did you even think that it could have been your family? What if it was?” Brendol swallowed. Perspective was an important thing. What if his family _had_ been on Hosnian Prime? The mere thought of it made bile rise in the back of his throat. But Kendra wasn’t finished.

 

 _“_ Do you know what that makes you, Brendol? It makes you a tyrant. A terrorist.” It wasn’t even disdain anymore just pure revilement. _“_ I gave you the option of renouncing the First Order and you wouldn’t do it. I don’t care why. But I will not willingly share my bed, my family and my life with someone who can justify the mere concept of Starkiller Base, let alone what it did. Now if you’ll excuse me, Brendol; my sons need me.”

His wife left her chair without a nothing word and swept from the room, leaving him with a lot to think about. He couldn’t leave the First Order. Whatever about what they’d do to him, he couldn’t bear to think of what they’d do to Kendra (pregnant or not), maybe even his sons. He had no doubt that Snoke would take exceptional pleasure in sending Kylo Ren on a rampage with a squadron of Stormtroopers to tear apart whatever hole in the ground the traitor was hiding in with his wife and children. Brendol Hux was trying to protect his family.  

 

 

Brendol left her for a while. To impose his presence so soon might cause her to lash out as she had become known for doing. He could hear her upstairs, talking to the children and them attempting to talk back; chattering senselessly but necessary if they were to learn. His time on Naboo was running out and the redhead needed to see his children before he returned to Finalizer. By the time he entered her bedroom (which was far more lavish than her room on Arkanis); she seemed to have cooled down. Not that she had been anything but cold when she delivered those numbing truths.

 

Killian rested on his mother’s lap, his body supported by the crook of her arm with both grabby hands resting on the bottle. The first few times, they’d refused the bottle; opting for Kendra’s chest instead and as much as it killed her, she had to insist until they eventually took it. Killian was greedier than Hadrian; he still lay in the female’s lap, clutching the bottle but his eye lids were starting to droop. She tried to remove the bottle but he whimpered and grabbed it back. More often than not, he puked when she winded him.

 

For once when Brendol saw Hadrian, he was awake and quite excited to see him. He was more energetic than he remembered and far more affectionate. The five month old was heavier and stockier but pleasantly so; a reminder than his son was actually growing. Kendra and Brendol exchanged an amicable glance before returning their attention to their respective children.

 

“Does your father know you’re pregnant?” The question seemed to come from nowhere. She didn’t answer for a moment; her hair had been tied over one shoulder while Killian rested against the other, his back being rubbed. It was one of the rarer occasions where he did what he was supposed to do: Belch.

 

 _“_ He doesn’t. Cole knows. My father doesn’t know I’m here either. _”_ Brendol felt a jolt in his stomach. Romhain knew she was here. He knew because of Brendol. She was hiding from her own father?

 

“Why doesn’t he know? Surely-”

“Because, Brendol; if he knew, he would want to know why. And then he would drag me back to Arkanis. And I don’t want to go back to Arkanis.”  Surely he wouldn’t? When he spoke to Romhain the next day, could he not tell him to leave Kendra where she was? But that was a confliction of interests. If Brendol wanted to keep his wife, he wanted to keep her in their ‘family’ home.

 

Naturally, he couldn’t tell her Romhain knew. Even if Brendol had informed him by accident, the consequences would be the same. He’d seen when Kendra was on her deathbed that she was little more than a pawn; an assurance for Romhain who had diminished somewhat when the boys were born. But the eldest Varnett was not known for leaving anything to chance. Kendra still had her value.

 

“Know why?”

“Why I’m here. He doesn’t know I’ve left you.” Sometimes Brendol forgot that minor detail; that gut-wrenching talk they’d had back on Arkanis. Being with her and the children made it seem normal, like they would never truly be apart for it. Killian was fine, he was placed back in the cot and Kendra handed a full bottle to her husband who took it curiously. If he didn’t know what to do with it, Hadrian would.

 

“There is no one who wants us together more other than you, Brendol, than my father. And purely for his own selfish reasons.  I’m done with it.” Brendol opened his mouth to protest; to inquire indignantly if she had left him to punish her father but from her earlier statements in the dining room, it seemed she wanted to sever herself from both of them. If he could view the situation, the whole messy situation from her eyes, he wouldn’t have blamed her.

 

“I think you could have found another way to punish your father without involving me.”

 

“Possibly. But if you think you’re not guilty too then you weren’t listening to a word I said back on Arkanis or in the dining room. Don’t forget to wind him, towels are there. He probably won’t get sick. Cover them both over when you put him back in. I’m going for a bath. And you’re not to join  me this time, Brendol.”


	22. I Warned You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendra and Brendol's amicability is short lived when an unwanted visitor turns up on Naboo with devastating consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't pleasant, lads. 
> 
>  
> 
> If anyone's interested by the way, I've been modelling Romhain's physical form, his personality and his demeanour on Mark Gatiss' Mycroft of the BBC's Sherlock series. Right down to the way he dresses and his cunning.  
> Though I think Mycroft is a lot easier on his family members than Romhain is!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I apologise for the delay in the chapter, I have a new story ready to come out as soon as this one ends!

 

 

 

 

 

Brendol had left Naboo without too much incident. Hadrian, despite his mother’s assumption, did puke on his father. He didn’t know what to do with the towel so he disregarded it. He soon regretted not thinking on it further as the lumpy, white substance dripped down his back.

 

He and Kendra didn’t speak much for the remainder of his visit. He spent his time with the children and if his wife happened to be present, his eyes would linger on her stomach. _Thirty percent._ It amazed him how two such small words could have such massive implications that would affect the whole family.

 

“I’d like a holo if you could get a spare one when you get the scan.” He requested quietly, gently catching her by the upper arm as she went to pass him in the hallway on the way to bed. “Just for while I’m away.”

 

“I will.” Kendra conceded with an accepting nod, he assumed she would be more aggressive with his hand on her arm but she actually seemed quite passive. She was due a scan in a week and truth be told, the female was nervous.

 

Thankfully, the visiting medic saw no complications or abnormalities projected on the droids screen. She even went on to declare that the baby was doing quite well. Kendra was asked if she wanted to know the gender and she had to restrain herself from saying yes.

 

Brendol returned to Finalizer on a strange, half hopeful high. Another child, another chance to win back Kendra. Of course he disregarded the little voice in his head that hissed to him that he never really had her in the first place.

 

In official marriage and parenthood, yes. But those things could be arranged and feigned. Only love from the heart could be earned in a way that Kendra wasn’t willing to relinquish. It seemed every time he saw her, she regarded him differently. Like there was something else going on in her head.

 

General Hux stalked the bridge of Finalizer, giving his orders evenly but firmly. There was no point in yelling at his officers. If he did that, he would throw them into a frenzy and their work would become sloppy out of panic.

 

As far as the staff of the Finalizer knew; he was a cold, distant man with little but his work. If only they knew he counted the days until he received a notice for personal time. To return to Naboo where his pregnant wife and sons would be waiting for him.

 

Maybe ‘waiting’ is a bit of a stretch and so was ‘wife’ but if that was how the General pictured it, it would not shake the image from his mind. Perhaps he was grasping at straws when he imagined his idyllic family life that wasn’t so idyllic after all.

 

That said, the General’s personal com vibrated enthusiastically against his leg but he ignored it for now, expecting it to be another change in the menu in the dining hall or that Kylo Ren had destroyed something else in unfounded temper.

 

However, when Hux did eventually remember to check his com some half an hour later, he expected nothing of importance. He skimmed through the text coms, nothing important. Until he came across a name in the inbox that he was **not** used to seeing.

 

_Kendra: Just had the scan. Everything is perfect, doing very well. Don’t know the sex. Holo is waiting for you when you get back. K._

He stared at the message, heart in his mouth. Not only had she commed him; she’d commed him to tell him everything was fine, to ease his mind. Was he looking too much into it?! No, why else would she do it?

 

Kendra was used to maintaining silence; was this com proof that he was making a breakthrough? Would his dream come true on his next visit? He certainly hoped so. Should he reply though? What did he have to lose? It might become a habit.

 

_Excellent news. Hope you and the boys are keeping well and the bump of course. Thank you for the holo, I’ll try and get back as soon as I can. B._

How dry and formal for a married couple. Then again, they never commed, he knew no better. Formality was in the General’s breeding and it seemed to show in almost every aspect of his life. Except getting puked on by his son, there’s no formality for that as such.

 

Brendol didn’t get a reply. Maybe she was annoyed it had taken him so long to reply (how long does one usually leave it?) or his answer was unsatisfactory? How could he have gone wrong with that? Perhaps he was overanalysing it. The little hope of developing the habit of comming his wife in the evening shrivelled.

 

Naturally, it didn’t matter what sex the baby was as long as it was healthy but Kendra felt the need to be prepared with names and the like. She had plenty of blue blankets and clothes left over from the boys; surely it couldn’t hurt to buy some pink? Just in case?

 

Of course, this would be her last child (at least with Brendol) so she did admittedly find herself craving a daughter as the weeks went by. If it turned out to be a boy, he would be loved as much as Hadrian and Killian (which was more than life itself) without question. But a girl would be wonderful.

 

Kendra was beginning to lose her patience with ships docking without permission. Naturally, since her husband was the usual culprit of that, she assumed it was him. Had he forgotten something? Was he returning to argue some unfinished point? Then again, she often lost track of time.

 

It was nearly two months since his first visit to Naboo; it was about the usual length of time between his visits, why shouldn’t she assume it was Brendol? She assumed it was but she was going to meet him head on. Except when she left the warm safety of the fireside on a cooler autumn evening.

 

Her cloak was pulled tighter to her and her hood was raised as she strode the short distance towards the landing strip. The chill hit her; not just the nipping breeze but also the noted absence of the fire. As usual, Kendra’s hand stayed on her stomach under the cloak; nearly four months and still going strong. Long may it last.

 

However; when Kendra got to the landing strip, she found herself confronted with a very familiar, rather luxurious vessel instead. If it was possible, the pregnant female paled a shade and her heart started to hammer as the figure started to descend the ramp. Turning on her heel and hoping he hadn’t seen her, she went to hurry back inside.

 

**“Get. Back. Here.”** Kendra stopped, knowing it was useless to continue. Swallowing, she turned around and already found herself in the imposing shadow of Romhain Varnett. All she could do was look up, petrified and pray the punishment wouldn’t be too severe. She should have known better.

 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Romhain was cold and calm, that alarming combination that had Kendra screaming on the inside.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be on Arkanis.”

“I wanted to….. Bring the boys for some sunshine….”

“Don’t lie to me, Kendra.”

“I’m not-“

 

Before Kendra realized it, she was face down on the hard permacrete of the path between the runway and the house. She seemed to be in limbo, gasping as she lay there with shock flexing its grip on her entire body.

 

Only then did she start to feel the embarrassing pain burning under her eye, taking in her right cheek and the right side of her jaw. Not to mention whatever other scrapes she managed to acquire when she fell.

 

Romhain looked down on his only daughter with something akin to smug contempt. She gave a small, pained whimper as she tried to pull herself up but that resulted in nothing more than a half scream when her father’s foot, suddenly appeared on her back, pushing her hard down against the ground.

 

His last com with the General had informed that Kendra was still indeed on Naboo. And while his son in law had insisted it was fine to leave her there for now (Brendol was thinking the move would upset her and the baby but did not mention said baby on the com), Romhain was not as generous.

 

This wasn’t just about Brendol, Kendra had disobeyed him. He was complacent to let her stay for a month or so, to lure her into a false sense of security; to play with her. Now though, with her audacity to lie, Romhain was not in a gaming mood.

 

**“I warned you.”** Romhain growled, applying pressure to her back while she helplessly tried to wiggle a hand underneath herself to protect her stomach. **“I warned you what would happen if you disobeyed me.”**

_“Father, please…. You’re hurting me… Please….”_ Confident, strong and self-assured all seemed irrelevant now at the whispered desperation that clawed its way out of her. The burden on her back of seemingly all her father’s weight would surely leave a print.

 

However, any potential marks on her back from his shoe (that probably cost more than a menial labourer would make in two years), didn’t concern her. What concerned her was the baby her father didn’t know anything about.

 

**“Oh am I?”** Her pleas had the reverse affect. Romhain’s foot crushed further down on her back, sandwiching her on the stony pathway. Kendra’s despondent pants appeared not to appeal to Romhain’s mercy as the severe hold was maintained.

 

The cruel pressing up and down to temporarily alleviate her for a second or two then taking it away toyed with her for a further few minutes until Romhain grew bored. That was until the sudden, brutal stomp elicited a tortured scream from the woman on the ground.

 

It reverberated all along the landing strip, into the garden where the birds took off from the trees in fright. Face wet from panicked tears, she told herself she’d imagined that crack. That nothing was wrong. Romhain was unmoved by the scene until a thundering roar erupted from the entrance of the house. She’d alerted Nero.

 

Nero wasn’t averse to human blood. He didn’t enjoy it but he’d proved before he was willing to endure it to protect his family and he did it again. Before Romhain could draw his blaster, all two metres of the Vornskr had descended on his master’s father, knocking him as he had knocked her and giving her time to crawl away.

 

With the blaster slid away, Romhain found himself completely at the mercy of Nero’s vice like jaws and daggers of teeth. Those blood red eyes burned as the beast’s savage bite clamped around his shoulder; blood fizzing and spurting, not only onto Romhain’s expensive suit and skin but the pathway too.

 

Romhain, despite his injury, did his utmost to shove Nero off. But what hope did a pampered banker have against a monster that was intent on destroying him? The Vornskr’s death grip tightened and yanked, disturbing muscle, veins, ligaments and bone while the human male could feel every jerk of the animal’s teeth; his agonized howls were enough to illustrate that.

_“Nero….”_ Kendra called weakly from somewhere at the side and immediately, the Vornskr let go. A paler than usual hand outstretched to the black creature and he bent his legs to lie next to her. With a hold taken on the thick, leather collar; the female managed to haul herself up and hobble carefully back towards the house with Nero as support.

 

 

 

Kendra regretted calling Nero off when she did. Some two hours later, the front door burst in and Kendra was forcefully removed with Nero and her two boys; put on a shuttle back to Arkanis. She could only assume her father had a backup plan in case something went wrong.

 

She didn’t think she’d sleep that night out of pure distress but when she settled in her bed back on Arkanis, she eventually drifted; she put it down to exhaustion and her body’s way of reacting to the trauma.

 

Petrified and all as Kendra had been for her stomach, it appeared everything was alright. She went to the bathroom regularly to check for bleeding or spotting and that seemed to ease her mind. For now.

 

Kendra woke to a wet bed. A curious frown accompanied the thoughts jumbled by sleep. She hadn’t wet the bed since she was a child. Maybe her bladder was more sensitive with this pregnancy; that had to be it.

 

She put a hand between her legs and felt; definitely wet. Breathing a quiet sigh, she lit the room dimly so as not to disturb the boys and peeled back the sheets to get out. She was halfway towards the bathroom when either Hadrian or Killian gave a small whinge, only just noticing the light.

 

But  when Kendra automatically looked back to the cot, her gaze was snatched to the ominous, dark crimson staining the pristine white of her sheets and when she looked down, the white silk of her nightdress as well.

 

Her  blood turned to ice and her hand clamped hard over her mouth. _Don’t wake them. Don’t wake them._ Staggering in horrified traumatisation, Kendra panted behind her hand to the bedroom door in a powerless attempt to get help.

 

 

Brendol’s com beeped in the early morning, just while he started to get dressed to assume command of the bridge.

“Yes?”

**“Did you tell my father where Kendra was?”** The dejection was clear, the horror was obvious.

“Cole?”

**“Did you?!”**

“Accidentally.” The General answered with a swallow, uneasy now by the tense edge in Cole’s voice. “What’s happened?”

**“My father dragged her back to Arkanis. She lost the baby.”**


	23. Once Upon An Emperor's Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol returns to Arkanis. He finds Kendra in a dreadful condition, Cole raging like a bull and that coping with a miscarriage is harder than he expects when his mind keeps showing him what might have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye win! Going to hold off on Precious Cargo for now and going to continue with this for a few more chapters! Re-thinking the ending but I'm not sure yet!

 

 

 

The first staff member she had seen that morning was lighting fires and the sight of her ivory skinned mistress in white and soaked in blood from the waist down sent a scream echoing through the house. They were joined shortly after that by others and Cole and a medic were sent for immediately.

 

He arrived and tore upstairs without hesitation where Kendra sobbed inconsolably for the first time, soaking Cole’s shirt though it mattered little to the older male. He held her and kissed her head like Brendol would have done had he been present. Cole could only assume his brother in law was on his way, he’d commed him from his own shuttle.

 

 _“How?!”_ Kendra wept without removing her face from Cole’s chest, he struggled to hear her. _“How did he know?!”_ Clutching his younger sister, he didn’t know what to tell her. The truth, he decided, was harsh but if it was an accident….

 

“Hux told him.” Kendra stiffened and slowly lifted her swollen, bruising face from Cole’s chest. He regretted it immediately. He should have lied. Should have told her Romhain had a tracker on the shuttle that brought them there or there was another mole in her staff.

 

 _“But…. N….No, he…he wouldn’t….”_ Kendra stammered helplessly and it echoed in her gaze when she looked up at him. Her throat was sore, closed and exhausted from the heavy sobs but she still clung to her brother. _“H….He wouldn’t d…do that t…to us!”_ Did that mean she trusted her husband?

 

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Ken.” Cole murmured, stroking her hair in a vain attempt to ease her somewhat. “He admitted it himself this morning.” He probably should have specified to Brendol that it wasn’t a good idea to come to Arkanis.

 

She was still too delicate, still unpredictable and too sore to face the General, Cole should have foreseen that. With this new revelation, she would be all too vulnerable than if her husband was to turn up. Which he would. Which he was in the process of doing.

 

Cole excused himself to allow his sister to rest, he would check on the boys as well. Kendra was left once more to her terrible thinking. Had he really handed her over when she had explicitly told him why her father couldn't know she was on Naboo? 

 

Kendra sat up in bed as comfortable as she could possibly be given her situation but she wanted to get up, she wanted to scream and break something; not rest. She wanted to make someone suffer. Actually, there were two people in particular she wanted to make suffer.

 

The bedroom was warm, the boys were being minded so their mother could rest and a medic had already been. It was little condolence. Her back still radiated discomfort and she was correct in thinking that the print of her father’s shoe would remain on etched into her skin.

 

The pain relief rendered her body numb though she felt the pull of the stiches in her lower abdomen every time she moved; a brutal reminder that her baby was gone. To think of it made her sick, physically revolted by how utterly powerless she felt.

 

Emotionally and mentally, Kendra’s numbness was attributed to denial and disbelief. Not even twenty four hours ago, she gazed longingly at her copy of the scan and rubbed her stomach, delighted when she remembered the medic’s positive comments.

 

But now….. It was gone. It was all gone. Dumbfounded, Kendra reached out a frail hand that had only been scrubbed of blood a few hours previous to stroke her loyal companion; the unwaveringly dedicated Vornskr that lay stretched the length of the bed beside her.

 

His canine features were traced with worry and melancholy simultaneously as his head rested on her thigh. He would give the occasional, regretful nudge of his nose against her tummy; almost like a heartbroken apology to the little one that was no longer inside, an apology for not realizing soon enough that they were in danger.

 

She tried not to touch the bump. In the same fashion as when the boys were born, the bump remained as if it still housed a small, growing life and that multiplied her agony innumerably. And it was her husband’s fault.

 

 

 

Brendol rarely ran. He was usually far too calm and collected for that. If he needed to get somewhere, his ordinary pace was brisk enough. Now, however, he ran for life and death. When Kendra was in labour, Hux bounded as quickly as his heavy, uniform boots would carry him to support her. Now he did the same to comfort her.

 

Out of breath, pink faced and hair askew; Brendol’s appearance didn’t bother him. He was in the throes of panic; grief and mourning hadn’t kicked in yet. It hadn’t hit him yet that his child was dead. The stairs were conquered and the hallway carpet trampled in a hurry towards Kendra’s bedroom. However, the General was about to get no further.

 

 ** _“OI!!”_** Hux stopped in his tracks to Cole striding down the corridor towards him. The General (that rank meant nothing here) was shoved and subsequently stumbled with the force of it. Confused, Brendol supported himself on the wall and stared up at his brother in law.

 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” Cole demanded, closing the distance between himself and the redhead. Cole was bigger than him. Cole was stronger than him. Cole knew how to hide a body.

 

“I need to see my wife.” Brendol explained, barely keeping the shake out his voice. Cole was an inconvenience, a barrier to Kendra. He was more concerned with getting to her but the other male was intimidating nonetheless.

 

“If I don’t kill you out here, she’ll kill you in there.” Cole informed him viciously, squaring off the younger male. “And Nero? Nero almost killed my father, I’m sure he’d have no problem doing the same thing to you.”

 

“Cole, I don’t understand. You commed me! I got here as quic-“

“That was before I saw her!” His aggression was ironed in; it wasn’t leaving any time soon. “That **prick** fucked up her face, her back and let’s not forget the fucking obvious!”

“What happened?! What did he do to her?!”

“It’s doesn’t fucking matter because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have known where to find her! She spent almost four months on Naboo and he was none the wiser! You fucked up, Hux! And your own goddamn child suffered for it!”

 

 _“Let me see her.”_  Hux pleaded but it only seemed to irritate Cole more.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Cole spat with his nostrils flared and his chest thrown out in a display of dominance. “She doesn’t want to see you!”

“I know but I just-“

 

The males were disturbed by crying in a room somewhere down the corridor, either Killian or Hadrian; Cole wouldn’t know until he got there. Torn between seeing to his nephews and protecting his sister, he knew Kendra would try and get out of the bed if she heard one of her sons crying.

 

“If you go into that room, I’ll break your fucking neck. Then I’ll send your carcass either back to Finalizer or gift wrap it for my father, understood?!” Brendol didn’t answer, simply stared the larger man down sullenly and watched as Cole stomped away.

 

When Cole was safely out of sight, Brendol disobeyed directly. He had no doubt his brother in law would carry out the threat to absolute perfection but it didn’t matter just then. If he knew Kendra was alright, he would die peacefully.

 

When he slowly pushed in the door, he was almost immediately greeted by a black, leathery nose poking from between the wine coloured curtains drawn around Kendra’s bed. If that didn’t dictate privacy in itself, nothing would.

 

The door was closed and the bed was approached quietly where his hand stretched out to meet Nero’s nose; it was all he could see of him. The soft grumble when it was withdrawn made the human male curious.

 

He knew the Vornskr was aware of the dire situation but he found it astounding that the animal was directly affected by it. If only he knew the depths of Nero’s melancholy and guilt, he might have apologised for the treatment of him prior to the boys being born.

 

Brendol found the gap and somehow managed to restrain himself from gasping out loud. Kendra lay in the centre of the bed, Nero on her far side and what appeared to be a sitting space nearest to him which he would take full advantage of; he could only assume Cole had been sitting here.

 

Looking her over forlornly; he took in the menacing red patch under her eye that would no doubt develop into a colourful bruise. Various scratches, scrapes and small cuts littered her beautiful, sleeping face from when she had been pressed against the permacrete.

 

The worst of the damage (by far) was covered by her nightdress and her bedclothes though the most distressing thing about the entire sight was the bump. Whether the baby was still in there or not, he had no idea but it pained him regardless.

 

Automatically and purely out of habit, Brendol stretched a hand out and laid it gently against the mound, covered warmly and protected but unfortunately too late. Only now did it hit him what he had actually lost. His head dipped and his hand stayed in place as his chest heaved and his eyes watered.

 

It was cruel. Every aspect of this horrific situation was cruel. And yet, he couldn’t help but draw the comparison of what Kendra said about the Hosnian System. His child had not been given a chance just like those on Hosnian Prime and its surrounding planets.

 

Brendol looked up slowly when he felt a grip flex around his hand. It was neither comforting nor harsh, docile nor vindictive. Her eyes were closed but the tempo of her breathing had changed. His wife was awake.

 

_“Out.”_

“No.” He was going to stand his ground this time. He wouldn’t be bullied by Cole or rejected by Kendra. Naturally, the events of the day previous would affect her greater than anybody else but Brendol was determined. “I’m staying here.”

 

 _“I don’t want you here.”_ He couldn’t quite make her out. Obviously, she was devastated but did she really blame him as much as Cole said she did? Or as Cole himself did? Maybe it was just easier to have someone to blame.

 

“Kendra….” His hand was shifted and held hers instead though her eyes were still closed. He wanted to hold her, kiss her and reassure her that everything was alright but it seemed she was determined to shut herself off from him. “I didn’t mean for this to happen…. I asked him for the coordinates, that’s a-”

 

 _“Regardless….”_ Kendra choked, exhausted and broken. _“This is still your fault. You have the blood of your own child on your hands now. I hope that’s enough for you.”_

“That’s not fair, Kendra!” Brendol protested suddenly, releasing her hand and standing up from the bed in one swift movement, kicking back the curtain as he did so. The momentary lapse in his calm dejection didn’t last. He paced the room for a series of biting seconds as he came down again.

 

 _“Tell that to her.”_ Was the response that chilled him. Brendol’s eyes closed for the second time as he still stood maybe two metres from the bed.

 

“Her.” The broken hearted General repeated with a steadying swallow. He didn’t dare turn back to the bed. If it was possible, she had sunk even further into her pillows in despair. A bare hand combed through the fiery strands he had passed on to his sons while his mind rooted for unwelcome thoughts.

 

It’s very true when they say you don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it. With guilt; he remembered over a year ago, sitting in front of the fire after Romhain left and contemplating his line. Sons. He’d been focused on sons. A daughter would have been a hindrance, an inconvenience. He looked at the empty bump again and felt remorse prick at him. _How could he have thought that?_

 

He recalled his dream. That beautiful dream of a redheaded emperor climbing into a full bed with his family. That child nestled into Kendra, the one beside Hadrian….. That had to be her. The dark hair, the small frame, the small whinge as the cold hit her; that had to be his daughter. Maybe it was better he couldn’t see her face.

 

As much as he tried to prevent his imagination going into overdrive, it was futile. How could he not think about the little girl that would run to him when he came home? How could he not think of the pretty face, the pale skin, the dark hair and the big blue eyes that would captivate everyone she met?

 

How could he not answer to Papa? How could he not dry her eyes when she cried and hold her close to his chest when she was tired? How? What would he do to Romhain if he spoke ill about her? Plenty. He was sure Nero would partake out of devotion for his mini-mistress.

She wouldn’t be a trophy wife, Brendol wouldn’t allow it. His daughter would be a princess, a literal princess of the new Empire. Strong and capable like her mother and just as beautiful; she might be a Senator, a gentle hand to guide those uncertain under her father’s rule. She might be an Empress in her own right if Hadrian and Killian decided ruling wasn’t for them.

 

But that wouldn’t happen now. Any of it.

 

“Did you name her?” He asked, half afraid to hear the answer. He knew the name would haunt him, whatever his wife had called her.

 _“Isabelle.”_ She answered; her voice hollow as she gave in and cradled the bump with one hand. He drew a shuddering breath as one arm crossed his chest in a sort of comforting self-embrace. _Isabelle. Isabelle Hux. His Isabelle._

 

“What now?” The redhead asked with a pained edge; this was harder than he thought. Thirty percent aside, he realized now he had massively underestimated the coping involved with the loss of a child. Especially when he couldn’t seem to shake what might have been when he found out the child’s gender.

 

 _“Nothing.”_ Kendra’s answer was bleak and defeated, maybe it was still the medication in her system. That’s what she told herself anyway. _“She has already been removed for cremation.”_

“I’d like some ashes.”

_“No.”_

“Kendra, I’m beg-“

 _“You don’t deserve them. You didn’t deserve her.”_ Her emotions seemed to return in a rush and Kendra sounded like she was on the verge of frantic. _“Thirty percent be damned, she would have survived, I know it!  She might have been sick but she would have been perfect! And you took her away from me!”_

“Kendra, I’m not the one who hurt you. We should be focusing on Romhain, we should be trying-“

_“Please, Brendol. Just go away. Let me mourn in peace.”_


	24. Team Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendra and Cole have an ominous conversation that leads to a deadly decision.

“Something needs to be done.” Since the beginning of her marriage and even the announcement of it, Kendra’s personality had turned cold (with the exception of interacting with her sons) but now she was downright clinical; it almost sent a shiver up Cole’s vertebrae.

 

“What do you suggest?” The larger male stood back somewhat ominously while his sister sat in front of the fire with a blanket draped over her lap. It had been three days since the miscarriage, since the stiches had been put in and only now was she starting to become mobile; with help, of course.

 

Brendol had stayed on, opting to care for his sons while Kendra healed both physically and mentally though he did his best to stay out of her way. Cole more or less ignored him and Nero would cast him pitiful glances when he saw him.

 

 If Hux got close enough like passing the Vornskr in the hallway, he’d run his hand down his spine as he passed and get a brief flick of the tail or an affectionate nudge to his hip in return. If it was possible, Brendol’s admiration for the creature had grown when he learned of the extent of the damage to Romhain.

 

“You know what I’m suggesting.”

“You want to go down that route? Once you do that, Ken, there’s no going back.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Kendra snapped suddenly, rounding on her brother over the arm of her chair. He knew better than to take it to heart. It was a brutal combination of physical and emotional pain, hormones and the dull ache of mourning.

 

“I think you need to be careful.” Cole replied, unfazed. “There are bigger implications than just removing him; you know that as well as I do. There’ll be people asking questions, there’ll be inquiries… It won’t be clean, Ken.”

 

Kendra didn’t respond. The tiny sound of metal tinkling was only audible to herself as her fingers closed around the miniscule diamond around her neck and slid it along the dainty chain – it had become a comfort.

 

“Where is Brendol?”

“Upstairs with the boys.”

“Bring him down here.”

“Kendra-“

“Just do it, Cole.”

 

 

Brendol was none the wiser to the sinister conversation going on downstairs. It was more like an arrangement now; the conversation was over. He was about to be hauled into Varnett dealings again and he was about to find out first hand just how dangerous this family truly were.

 

He sat on the floor of his bedroom and watched his two sons crawling with vigour, seemingly playing with each other, chasing each other. The laughter when Hadrian’s rear hit the ground and the way he clapped his little hands as though calling his brother to him made the General crack a small, sad smile. He’d never see Isabelle like this.

 

Of course, the twins were not troubled by what almost was. They appeared to work in bouts of energy; they slept, ate then crawled and played then fell asleep before the process began all over again. No wonder, just watching them alone was exhausting.

 

They didn’t seem to rely on milk so much anymore as they got older; they ate ‘solid’ food now. Most of which had to be pureed so the General didn’t see the point in calling it ‘solid’. When they could eat a Bantha steak with him (and he longed for that day), only then would he acknowledge they were eating solid food.

 

It endeared him to see the twins so close. Even though they couldn’t speak yet, they had their own unique form of communication, they slept cuddled up together in the cot and even when they slept with Kendra or their father, they stayed close together. As if enjoying their parent but loyal to each other at the same time.

 

It made him wonder if he had missed out by not having a sibling. The again, if the twins had been a single birth, the chances are that child would not have had a sibling either. Isabelle’s conception had, after all, been a fluke.

 

So taken up with the musings of the things he couldn’t change, Brendol didn’t hear Cole enter his room without a knock. He watched the children for a moment before clearing his throat to alert his brother in law to his presence.

 

"Cole...." Naturally, he looked up at the obvious noise and hauled himself off the floor to avoid any vulnerability. They had stayed clear of each other for the past few days, Cole’s threat had been remembered and Brendol didn’t want to give him an opportunity to fulfil it.

 

"Stay at home dad suits you." Cold remarked almost snidely as Brendol felt a light burning in his cheeks at the older male’s mockery. "Kendra wants you downstairs."

 

“Why?” It wasn’t difficult to see the unease in the usually staunch and confident male but those characteristics were normally displayed in his comfort zone. He couldn’t have been further from his comfort zone now.

 

“Come downstairs and find out.” Brendol looked to the twins still playing on the floor, unaffected by the sudden tense atmosphere that had landed with Cole’s arrival. It seemed only the General felt it.

 

“Will you stay with them?”

“No, put them into the cot and someone will be sent to watch them.”

“Will I be allowed to see them again?”

“I don’t know. Depends on Kendra.”

 

Unnerved, Brendol did as he was bid; it was best not to test Cole just now. If he insisted on escorting him downstairs, it couldn’t be good. Both children were lifted with care and placed down into the cot but not without a tentative kiss before he hesitantly parted with them.

 

Kendra scarcely looked up when she was joined by her husband and brother though one was significantly meeker than the other. Brendol reluctantly sat opposite her while Cole opted to keep his previous position; somewhat removed from immediate circle but could chip in when needed.

 

“You look better.” The redhead offered helplessly, at a loss for something else to say. Kendra ignored the outreach of gentility and heightened her cold gaze to him instead. But she looked lost, not quite desperate but certainly like she was running out of options.

 

“How long have you been under my father’s thumb?” Brendol blinked at the strange question and (if it was possible), he felt less safe than he did before. With a thoughtful shake of his head, he combed through his mental database though he couldn’t give a solid answer.

 

“I…. I don’t know. Several months before I married you. Six years, perhaps?” It was Kendra’s turn to nod but it was slight, brief.

 

“And in all that time, he has been over your shoulder, breathing down your neck. Whether it was because of Starkiller or me is irrelevant. Neither your life nor your career have been your own, is that not a fair statement?”

 

“That’s the nature of marriage. Sharing your life.”

“We’re not talking about marriage. We’re talking about my father.”

 

“You and Starkiller are interlinked, Kendra, whether you accept it or not. I could not have had one without the other.” Needless to say, the female didn’t appreciate being compared to a weapon of mass destruction. She illustrated that fact in the impatient look she shot at Cole. Her brother merely shrugged as if to say **He’s not wrong.**

“I’m trying to offer you an olive branch, Brendol.” His wife informed him testily, the very essence of her annoyance crept across her tried, drained face. “I’m offering you a way out. I’m offering you your life back for the first time in six years.” Kendra paused. “I’m offering you the chance to avenge your daughter, do you want it or not?”

 

The General stared at her. After a moment, his gaze slowly shifted to Cole who watched him with the same intensity as Kendra. Were they really advocating what he thought they were advocating? Clearing his throat with discomfort, he found himself shifting in his seat and not quite ready to respond yet. He could read between the lines, he knew what they wanted.

 

 

Romhain was the almost sole financial stability of the First Order. There were other, smaller donors scattered throughout the galaxy, most of whom were anonymous. Romhain was the bulk of it. Officially, he was anonymous but it seemed with the Republic gone; no one was willing to challenge him. Could the Order survive on the smaller donors? But the Empire was rising, maybe they wouldn’t need them anymore…..

 

With that said…. To throw off Romhain’s hold would mean being free from the eldest Varnett’s constantly changing mood and the sometimes deadly consequences that followed them. It would mean not having to pander to his father in law and it would mean justice for his baby Isabelle. If Romhain was removed…. Kendra might not be so bitter.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Kendra and Cole exchanged a look; Brendol noticed but didn’t comment. Truth be told, he was afraid to. Cole’s tongue clicked and Hux’s attention jumped to him.

 

“We’re not sure yet.” The eldest was firm, it seemed little thought had been put into this but regardless, it was happening. “We can’t bring him here; he’ll want assurance that Nero has been destroyed which obviously won’t be happening-“

 

“Damn right it won’t.” Kendra’s disgusted mutter registered in Brendol’s ear but he remained focused on his brother in law.

 

“I think you should be staying with me for a while; bring the boys and recover on Aargau.” Cole told her pointedly as her lip curled in offense.

 

“I’m just fine, thank you!” Kendra countered to which her brother rolled his eyes. “If I’m going anywhere, it’ll be Naboo where mother wanted me to be! I don’t want to be on the same damn planet as him!” Brendol opened his mouth to chip in but it seemed the siblings weren’t finished arguing.

 

“Typical how you got the villa on Naboo.”

“What are you talking about?! You have two villas on Naboo, one on Yavin 4 and another on Aargau!”

“I think we should be getting back to the discussion at hand.” Both Varnett’s turned to the redhead who had spoken quietly and to his surprise, they conceded.

“Is it at all possible we could send Nero somewhere else? Just until… It’s done?” Brendol continued, eyes flickering between the two. It was easily known the animal was a beloved family pet. Even more so with the damage done to the patriarch.

 

“He won’t be separated from the boys.” Kendra replied her hand only millimetres from holding the empty bump (that had deflated somewhat by now but not completely). “I don’t want to force him in case he doesn’t come back the same.” A fair concern.

 

“Does your father know what he’s done?” Brendol genuinely didn’t know.

 

“He knows.” Cole confirmed almost savagely, his sister seemed incapable of answering. “That son of a bitch knows exactly what he did and he had the fucking nerve to send her a ‘get well soon’ basket!”

 

“But-“

“Nothing lost in a granddaughter according to him! So we’re going to gut him like a fish and-”

 _“Enough, Cole.”_ Kendra cut him off weakly, her hand half hiding her face in pained gesture. _“We do what we must. We avenge Isabelle and that is it. We will stoop to his level no longer than we need to.”_

Brendol found himself agreeing with his wife though the urge to reach out and comfort her was almost too much. He managed to restrain himself.

 

“If we send the boys to Naboo or Aargau with Nero and we bring Romhain here, would that suffice?” Hux spoke up, combing through alternatives in his mind. Again, the siblings looked to each other, both realizing the enormity of what they were about to do. “If I’m involved, it will look suspicious if we bring him anywhere other than here.”

 

“He’s right.” Cole didn’t think he’d ever utter those words in connection to his brother in law but desperate times called for desperate measures. Then again, murder isn’t always a group activity. The dark haired male addressed his next question directly to the General. “Can you draw up some fake plans? Something to lure him here, request funding for a new weapon?”

 

General Hux already had a new design; whether he would ever see it come into being was another question. But this was for his daughter. He would do it for her. His little Isabelle.

 

“I have plans already drawn up; he doesn’t need to know if they are real or fake.” Hux stated with confidence as Kendra rolled her eyes at the thought of her husband designing another weapon. “What do you plan on doing?”

 

The victim’s children swapped another glance to each other. There were so many satisfying methods they could employ, so many ways to make Romhain pay for a lifetime of cruelty but mostly for Isabelle. Perhaps they should do to him what he did to her.

 

“I’ll bring the boys to my home on Aargau with Nero.” Cole’s tone was final. “In the meantime, we make our decision. General, we will contact him as soon as you can have a solid copy of the plans here.” He looked around at his conspirators; each of them was exhausted in a different way.

 

“For Isabelle.”


	25. For Isabelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole, Kendra and Brendol put their plan into action.

And so it was agreed. Romhain would be dispatched. The finer details were yet to be ironed out but Cole would take care of that. All Brendol needed was to acquire the plans. When he did, the boys would be sent to Aargau under Nero’s watchful eye and only then would their maternal grandfather be invited to the villa.

 

Cole left. Despite the dreadful situation they found themselves in, bound together in, the eldest male had something of an excited spring in his step. His nephews had never been to his home on Aargau, his staff (mostly female) would surely be delighted. He too would try and keep them there for as long as possible to allow Kendra some time to recover yet again when the deed was done.

 

Brendol returned upstairs to the boys, relieved that his earlier fear was unfounded. He would be parted with them for a few days but it was a necessary evil. The present staff member left when he re-entered the room and both boys were gathered up and held securely by their father. No doubt this arrangement would change with Romhain gone.

 

Kendra stayed by the fire, brooding. This would change everything. She would be free to do as she pleased without the threat of her father standing over her. Brendol would still be in her life but that was unavoidable with the twins. He would always be there, hopefully his work would consume him and his visits would be sparse.

 

She would be free to meet someone else, to share her life with someone she could actually love and be happy with. At that present moment, such a basic luxury was not afforded to her. She could only assume her father had frightened off Lon all those years ago, threatened him to stay away from her.

 

But Lon usually wasn’t one to be intimidated. Hence why he, a Republican officer, had walked into the home of Romhain Varnett to ask his daughter for a walk in the garden. And she, defiant, accepted. Kendra still didn’t know the horrific truth behind Lon’s disappearance.

 

His family had buried him upon the discovery of his remains and attempts to contact Kendra were made. Even now, she was still ignorant of how cut off she was, how isolated her father had purposely made her. Her whereabouts were not divulged to anyone who inquired; her com details were not released to anyone looking to contact her. She became a myth.

 

She just assumed that when she got married and came to Arkanis that her friends had forgotten about her, that if word spread on who she was married to that she would be ostracised. Did they even know she was married? As far as they were concerned, she had just disappeared.

 

During her pregnancy, she had longed for Normay, Nalesse or Lucilla. Just to speak to them, have them assure her she wasn’t alone. She felt alone. Abandoned. Bitter. How many times did she long for Lucilla’s wise, comforting words? Or Normay’s brash advice? Or Nalesse’s promise to skin whoever hurt her?

 

 

They came from different planets but there was never any effort spared when they were in their teens and their early twenties to see each other. The distance between Aargau, Rosunda, Coruscant and Tatooine was nothing when they were together.

 

She also had no doubt that if the worst had happened and she didn’t survive the birth of the boys that they would have stepped in. The ones that giggled and pushed her towards Lon, the ones who had jumped on her and screamed when she told them they were official. The ones who had made her feel normal when the First Order and her soon to be husband loomed in the background.

 

Brendol wouldn’t have been able to bring them to Finalizer (she would have haunted him if he did) and the most probable cause of action would have been to separate them. One would be sent to Cole and the other to her father. One would be significantly better treated than the other and though it wouldn’t happen now, the idea of it absolutely tormented her.

 

“Are you going to eat tonight?” The words woke her from the pining thoughts of friends she hoped she would see again.

 

“No.”

 

“Kendra….” The latest thoughts of her friends seemed to breed contempt and disdain more so than usual for Brendol. Naturally, it didn’t help when he reclaimed the seat opposite her. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

 

“I don’t feel up to eating just yet. I will when I do.” She thought her tone had been final and that directing her gaze back to the fire would shut down the conversation but no. Her husband was more stubborn than that.

 

“I understand this is difficult but if you don’t eat, you will waste away to nothing. Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?”

 

“I shelved that idea eighteen months ago.” She answered numbly, eyes in the depths of the fire and her thoughts of returning to what she was before. As if the last six years had been a nightmare, like none of it had happened save for her precious boys.

 

Would they be married? Would they have children? Lucilla probably had both. She was stunning after all, kind and gentle to a fault. Nalesse; maybe not so much. She was vicious and intimidating. Normay had her career but Kendra could see her with children with the right person. She was dedicated, her family was everything. It seemed Kendra’s own husband was uncomfortable with her choice of words.

 

“If you won’t eat, come to bed. It gets cold down here at night.”

 

“That’s what the fire is for, Brendol.”

 

“Yes but it’s lonely down here. Come to bed.”

 

“That’s the idea. To be alone. You would think I’ve rather gotten tired of it over the last six years but it seems not.” He shifted uneasily at that, she spared him no glance. She simply maintained her gaze on the fire.

 

“Have you ever killed someone before?” He wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I know genocide is more your forte but humour me. Have you ever killed someone yourself? Personal, face to face?”

 

“No. My hands are clean.”

 

“I don’t think you know the definition of clean, Brendol. Go to bed. Take the boys with you if you want but leave me be. I have plenty of thinking to do.”

 

 

Kendra was upstairs when Romhain arrived three days later. She paced her bedroom without her boys or her Vornskr to comfort her. Cole greeted him and Brendol hovered in the background; as injured and all as Kendra was from the miscarriage, Isabelle was Brendol’s too and Romhain hadn’t forgotten that.

 

“How is your shoulder?” Brendol’s grudging and almost savage question interrupted the umpteenth sip of Romhain’s beloved Whyren’s Reserve while they waited for Kendra to join them for dinner. Cole had gone to fetch her, believing it would be no harm for his brother in law to spit some venom when he had the older male alone.

 

“Better.” Romhain answered coolly from the armchair that seemed to have been his from the very first moment he set foot in the villa all those years ago. His glass was given a distinguished swirl and his legs crossed casually, as if he wasn’t speaking to the heartbroken father of the child he’d killed. “Although I would have preferred they had told me when the beast was destroyed. I would have liked its head for over my fireplace. Vornskr are rare, you know.”

 

Brendol gripped the arm of his own chair across from Romhain and tried to keep himself somewhat restrained; he barely managed it. He had refused a glass of the rare, delectable whiskey; he wanted to be sober for this, he wanted to be sober when his daughter was avenged.

 

“Were you the father?” The question seemed almost too insensitive to be real. Then again, who would joke about such a terrible thing? It had come out of nowhere; no one had mentioned the pregnancy or the baby that had striven her way to over four months.

 

“I… Excuse me?”

 

“The child Kendra miscarried, General. Were you the father?”

 

Naturally, Brendol stared at this despicable human being. _I can’t wait to see you choke on your own blood._ Had he no ounce of empathy? He was speaking about a defenceless unborn baby. Not only that but a baby that was related to him. Then again, if he spoke about his dying daughter like a diseased animal, what likelihood for mercy did his granddaughter have?

 

“I was.” The answer was spat with offence. Even when he discovered Romhain’s responsibility for Isabelle’s death, he didn’t think he hated him then more than he did now. To say the nonchalance disgusted him was a brutal understatement.

 

“Are you quite sure about that?”

 

 **“How dare you!”** He scarcely kept himself in his chair. His only source of comfort was that this would all be over soon. For Romhain at least. **“Of course I’m sure! Isabelle was mine! She was my only daughter and now-!”** He cut himself off for fear of working himself up but Romhain probably had plenty to exploit already.

 

“Ohhhhh…..” That horrible chuckle sent shivers up the General’s spine as the last of the amber liquid in the glass was swirled. No doubt he would take a refill soon. “It had a name, that’s sweet.” Hux was slowly losing his grasp on restraint. Maybe Cole and Kendra wouldn’t be too put out if he just broke Romhain’s neck now.

 

“No, merely inquiring is all. After all, if she was faithful and had nothing to hide, she wouldn’t have run to Naboo and she certainly wouldn’t have run from me. You can understand my curiosity.” _Your curiosity be damned. Isabelle was mine._

Unless…. Kendra was already pregnant and desperate to hide it which would explain why she was so eager to bed him when he returned. He doubted under normal circumstances she would have had him near her if she didn’t need to and of course, he would have understood.

 

In fact, he had no intention of laying with his wife so close to the birth of their sons. But if that was true, why would she have left him during that very visit? If she was carrying someone else’s child, why would she have gone to the trouble of covering it? Unless it was for her father’s benefit or a safety net.

 

He didn’t have much time to think on it. Cole managed to convince Kendra to join them and instantly, Brendol was at her side as a means of support. Anything to prove he was worth keeping when this was all over.

 

“Finally! I’m starving.” Romhain was already on his feet and heading in the direction of the dining room. But now Brendol found it easier to ignore him now with the focus of protecting his wife on his mind. His hand found the small of her back and he guided her through with Cole following behind.

 

 

 

“I trust you have the new plans with you, General?” Romhain asked, swallowing a mouthful of steak and washing it down with Whyren’s; the kind of meal he was used to. Something to lure him further into his comfort zone.

 

“Business after dinner, Romhain.” Brendol responded coldly, cutting through his own steak with an animosity that reflected his mood. Up until their first course was served (and even between the first and second course), he openly held his wife’s hand on the table. She didn’t stop him and Romhain noticed.

 

“Will you try again?” The question was blunt but the little displays of affection and comfort that had started upon Kendra’s appearance had piqued his interest. She was yet to speak and she barely picked at her food; almost as if traumatized by something that hadn’t happened yet.

 

_“No.”_

“Yes.”

 

Their answers were simultaneous but different. Kendra merely averted her gaze while Brendol cleared his throat. No doubt their division on the subject would stir more curiosity in his father in law. That was clearly the case by the smirk he flashed at Cole from the head of the table. It wasn’t returned.

 

“So which is it?”

 

“It’s still quite raw, Romhain.” The General was pointed in a bit to throw off this conversation and hopefully redirect the conversation though he was still ignorant to their method of execution. “Kendra and I will discuss what is right for us in time.” _No, we won’t._ Was his wife’s non-verbal response though no argument was made aloud with the statement.

 

“Well, General, I think-“ Romhain stopped. He cleared his throat and gave his chest a light pat as though attempting to relieve some trapped wind. When that didn’t work, another sip of the Whyren’s was solicited to try and ease the light burning gathering in his chest and throat.

 

And when those things didn’t work, he tried loosening the collar of his shirt and undoing a button or so to lessen the pressure building within his torso. None of that worked either. He sat back in his chair and took a few deep breaths, assuming it was something in the food.

 

Both Brendol and Cole stared as Romhain’s clearing of the throat developed into a fully blown coughing fit. Kendra remained unmoved. Struggling to reach into his pocket, Romhain barely withdrew his handkerchief in time before the first spurt of blood made its appearance.

 

Romhain gawked into the pristine white material that had become tainted with crimson. With every second that wore on, he seemed to be dragged further and further into agony of an unknown origin. The eldest male began to pant now in both pain and panic. More coughing, more blood.

 

He could feel his stomach contorting and his bowels shifting. His muscles seemed to be cramping and the burning only intensified. The temptation to pace and rip at his hair almost became too much but somehow, Romhain held his composure though not entirely.

 

He almost didn’t realize there was a wetness gathering on his upper lip but it was obvious to the rest of those seated at the table; a red wetness. Romhain’s usually perfectly kept hair was ruffled by a paling hand passing through it and he started to rock back and forth.

 

It was like a dream, like some strange out of body experience though the pain grounded him. For him to explain it would have involved opening his mouth and if he did that, he was positive vomit and more blood would go spewing across the table. Something in his head that overrode this entire experience told him that would hurt his reputation.

 

The severe pounding on the patriarch’s head and the sudden exhaustion tore at him. His symptoms collided with each other and his body didn’t appear to know how to cope with the combination of them. Then again, it wasn’t supposed to.

 

 _“Look at me.”_ Kendra leaned forward in her seat and there was something so beautifully commanding and dangerous about that sinister whisper. For the first time in his life, Romhain was afraid. And he showed it by obeying his daughter. Her eyes locked with his and for several moments, she held his gaze with unnerving dedication.

 

The only present female watched with incredible satisfaction as his breaths became desperate gasps and his skin had gone from a healthy tan to pale to almost grey. The beads of sweat had started to pour and he looked like he fought to keep himself awake.

 

The top half of Romhain’s body gave way and collapsed down onto the table, shaking like a leaf. It wasn’t long before the shaking developed into spasms and his pants evolved into petrified wheezes as his lungs started to collapse in on themselves.

 

Kendra slipped a hand under his bloodstained chin and guided his head back up so she could resume her gaze and maintain it. Her face _would_ be the last thing he saw. Her voice _would_ be the last thing he heard. Her daughter’s name _would_ be one of the last things to register in his mind.

 

 _“This is for everything you’ve done to me. From the day I was born until this one.”_ Her voice was soft, as if she was speaking to a child who was drifting off to sleep. The veins had appeared in his face and his mouth hung open.

 

 _“This is for using me as a tool. This is for using me to further yourself and your vile agenda.” His_ eyelids appeared to be going into a seizure of their own but still he looked at her with every nerve alight with physical torture. _“This is for controlling my life and everything in it like it was yours to control.”_

By now, Romhain’s breaths had fallen into pitiful squeaks. Only now did it occur to the male that he was dying. And Cole and the General sat there dumbfounded, doing nothing. Whatever they had in mind, they didn’t expect it to be so…. Graphic.

 

 _“But most of all….”_ Kendra continued with the deadly purr of delight at the last few breaths. _“This is for Isabelle.”_

As though perfectly timed, as if the name was fatal; there was a dull thud and the brief quaking of cutlery, dinner ware and glasses that accompanied it when Romhain’s head hit the table. There were no more shuddering breaths, no more meek attempts to control the spasms that shook his body and no futile stabs at ignoring the pain that ripped through his entire form.

 

There was silence for a moment. Both Brendol and Cole exchanged a stunned and worried glance; Romhain was most certainly dead. Now, their gazes slipped to the one most affected by the victim’s treachery.

 

“Ken….” Cole breathed in slight disbelief as his vision passed over his father’s lifeless form. “What the fuck did you do?”

 

_“I coated the inside of his glass with powdered root of Dakar. Just his. In case either of you wanted a drink.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I used the names and personality traits of Hux's lovers from my other fics as Kendra's estranged friends. xD  
> Nalesse - Precious Cargo.  
> Lucilla - Pristine Condition.  
> Normay - He Hates You. Let's Be Friends!  
> Please note: The fics are not directly related. They do occur on the same time line but amazing as Hux is, he can't have four women on the go at the same time! If you know the others, you'll know why!  
> Powdered root of Dakar is fake. I made it up to punish the bastard.


	26. Accusations, Promises and Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Romhain's death affects the three involved but none so much as the married couple.

Kendra went to bed more or less straight away after that should have been a traumatic event. Neither her husband nor her brother stopped her. In fact, they probably didn’t even notice her leave. They were too busy staring at the oh so still (save for a few disturbing twitches) Romhain.

 

They started to drink in silence and only then was Brendol contented enough to have a glass of Whyren’s. Despite it being in Romhain’s glass at the time of his death though Kendra assured them it was the glass itself and not the drink that killed him.

 

“Are you satisfied?” The quiet question made Brendol look from the cooling form of his father in law to the older male beside him though the look didn’t last for very long. He was satisfied to a degree. It had been horrendous to watch and of course, probably beyond so to endure but it seemed Kendra chose the poison well. The results were indeed satisfactory but the General found himself baying for more blood than had been granted in this particular form of execution.

 

“I am.” Brendol gave the answer no doubt Cole had been expecting as another sip was taken of the amber liquid that temporarily pickled his tongue. “I confess though, I thought it would be gorier. I had expected Kendra to want to evoke more blood. I got the impression she wanted to literally spill it for Isabelle.”

 

“I think Kendra appreciates that someone would have to clean that up and the more cleaning up that has to be done, the greater the chance of this leading back to us. I think this was enough. Just about. This is somewhat clean.” Cole observed dryly as he drained his tumbler and refilled it from the crystal decanter. His glass, now full again, was raised to his father slumped on the table. “Thanks for an evening’s entertainment, you old bastard.”

 

“What happens now?” Brendol inquired, his sips were far more conservative than Cole’s mouthfuls though he had taken to tipping in measures every so often so that the other male didn’t have more than his fair share of the decanter. If they managed to break their gaze away from Romhain, it usually didn’t exceed any great amount of time.

 

“Depends on what you mean.” Cole replied lazily, swirling the contents of the glass distinguishably but was careful not to do so with too much zeal so as not to spill it. “Are you talking about him or are you talking about Kendra?”

 

“I was referring to Romhain.” Hux answered but the last part piqued his concern and accordingly, he regarded his brother in law with dubious curiosity. “But what did you mean by Kendra?”

 

“Oh for fucks sake, you can’t possibly think this isn’t going to change things!” Cole’s impatience seemed to come out of nowhere but Brendol assumed it was the alcohol in his system. He highly doubted it was the loss of his father though he could have been wrong. He was. “Hux, you love my sister, don’t you?!”

 

“You know I do.”

 

“Right. Here it is. She doesn’t love you. She never has and she probably never will if her mind remains unmanipulated. She finds you smothering, overpowering and all in all an absolute chore to be around let alone be married to. You saw what happened when he found out she left, why do you think she stayed so long? Why do you think she never tried to leave before? Because my father wouldn’t let her, that’s fucking why.”

 

“But…. The boys-“

 

“The boys were an accident. Isabelle was an accident. They weren’t made out of love, that’s for damn sure. Not on her end at least.” Another heavy mouthful was taken and Brendol was sorry he’d asked the question but the information just kept coming. “She never wanted to get pregnant. Not by you because then she’d be fucking tethered to you. And she is.”

 

There was several long moments of silence but the drinking continued and Brendol’s had gotten heavier. How could it not? He’d shot himself in the foot by helping to dispose of Romhain. Of course, he had suspected all these things already but to hear them from Cole’s callous point of view only reinforced them.

 

“Was I Isabelle’s father?” Cole clicked his tongue before he answered.

 

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Kendra.”

 

“I don’t want to ask her. I’m afraid of the answer.”

 

“What would you do if you weren’t?”

 

“I don’t know. I’d be devastated.”

 

“You were devastated anyway. I don’t think it makes much of a difference now if you were or not.”

 

“You’re starting to sound like your father.”

 

“I spent enough time around him. Something’s bound to rub off. If your wife was unfaithful to you, it was for a good damn reason and even if it wasn’t, she wasn’t asked if she wanted to marry you. She was fucking told. You would have loved Isabelle and you wouldn’t have been any the wiser so my advice to you is stop wallowing in what you can’t change.”

 

It stung him. That sting resonated in his system. This perfect thing (or almost perfect thing) he had wasn’t so perfect after all. In the last six years, he had always wanted Kendra, though sometimes he allowed it to come across as hatred; as if he couldn’t afford to let her see that weakness. Even before he married her.

 

When he was away for long periods of time, he became immersed in his work and seemingly forgot about her. He craved her all over again when Starkiller became a memory and a few months after that; he craved a line from her. Somewhere after that and he still didn’t know how, he fell deeper and deeper until his feelings were unrecognizable and foreign.

 

When that happened, he watched every move she made with awe; every touch (however accidental) was electric and if he was lucky enough to find himself intimate with her, it was bliss. Pure and utter bliss. Even to hold her afterwards felt like an honour he didn’t deserve. When he became a father by her, he had done his utmost and tried to surpass his own heartbreak for his wife in order to care for the twins; something he never would have expected to do.

 

When she woke, those few days had been precious. Her venom had been at an all-time low and she was almost kind to him. In some instances, she actually was. She had become more than just his wife or the woman he supported while he was away on Finalizer. She was the mother of his children, the producer of his line. More to the point, she risked her life to do it. Every day he felt himself crawling further and further under Kendra’s mercy, desperate to know he wasn’t alone in those helpless feelings.

 

It seemed he was. She wasn’t as weak as him, as susceptible as him. He had reduced himself to pining for her on Finalizer, ever before he knew she was pregnant. It had gotten to the point where he waited and waited for personal time to surface on his com to return to her again. And when he found out she was pregnant…. The thought of leaving her was unbearable. If his father had seen how he splayed himself in front of his wife, a woman he was supposed to have unquestioning control over, so powerlessly; he would have been disgusted.

 

It was all well and good for Cole to tell him he couldn’t change it. He couldn’t, he could accept that. What he wouldn’t accept or rather couldn’t continue to take was rejection. Time after time after time; his dedication, his consideration and even his feelings were rejected with little concern. It tore at him and now with the thought of Isabelle’s misplaced paternity firmly lodged in his head, he decided he wouldn’t do it anymore.

 

“I’m going to bed.” He informed Cole quietly, deciding that his brother in law’s drunken presence wasn’t what he needed while he tried to pick through his mental and emotional anguish. “Unless you require assistance here?”

 

“No.” Cole seemed hell bent on emptying the decanter and the time would probably come to abandon the glass completely and just drink straight from the larger, crystal container. “There’s already someone on their way to get rid of him. Might bring it full circle and dump him on Tatooine like he did to Lon. Go to bed.”

 

Hux didn’t need to be encouraged. His father in law’s presence was left for the last time and no extra time was taken to look back for sentimentalities sake. He was still divided. Romhain was gone and his work would be his own once again but there was nothing to hold Kendra to him. It would be down to him and if he could persuade her that he had enough to offer her. Had she been unfaithful? Possibly, there was evidence for and against. If she had, would he forgive her? If she even sought forgiveness, of course he would.

 

Brendol hesitated on the landing and deliberated. Did he turn right to the wing where his own room was situated or left to where Kendra and the boys lived? Granted, the boys weren’t there that night and his wife was probably delicate. With that in mind, he made his decision.

 

Carefully and quietly, Hux stripped off his trousers and his tunic and slipped in between the lighter and colder sheets of Kendra’s bed. Thankfully, she didn’t stir. At least not until he draped an arm around her waist and covered her back with his chest. A light, amicable kiss was laid to his wife’s shoulder and only then did she look back but she said nothing; simply laid her head back down to ignore him until she fell asleep again. Settling close to her, he actively sought out that intoxicating scent specific to her; when he found it, he inhaled it greedily.

 

He had completely overlooked Kendra’s feelings and they still didn’t seem to have occurred to him yet. He was blind to them almost. Her twenty-ninth birthday had recently gone; no one knew or remembered, only Cole. How could she not feel lonely? How could she not feel isolated? Why did he _always_ play the victim when she was the one held captive in her own ‘home’? He didn’t know what an emotional wound was.

 

He had his freedom to roam while she remained a bird in a cage; kept to be bred. She was expected to be dutiful and respectful, she had never been those things and she wasn’t about to start. She still hated him, maybe not as much as she did before but still. He knew it too, whether he wanted to accept it or not. She’d made it very clear to him the night before he married her; the first time she’d spoken to him and it wasn’t out of choice. But with Romhain gone….

 

He didn’t think he was going to sleep that night and Romhain was little to do with it. More what he had implied before Kendra came downstairs. As he lay there with her now, he felt no different than he usually did, still very much devoted if a little sad because of it. Though something began to niggle at him. If his fears were confirmed then that meant someone else had been where he was now.

 

There had been another form in that bed, pressed to her’s that she probably welcomed more than his. It meant there had been a presence in general that she found to be more agreeable than his. His mind reeled off images of hands on her hips that weren’t his. He could see lips that on her neck that didn’t belong to him and someone else taking in the aroma that in the past few seconds seemed tainted to him. More upsetting were the quiet moans and whimpers that he wasn’t causing.

 

Maybe that was why she didn’t eject him from her bed the way she usually did. Perhaps in her sleepy haze, she believed him to be her lover and so relished the company rather than rejecting it. He thought he could do it; to sleep or even just to stay beside her but the internal tauntings of his own mind were simply too severe for him to ignore.

 

 _“Where are you going?”_  Came the sleep-ridden husk of confusion from the bed when he whipped back the covers and clambered out with little concern for disrupting her sleeping position.

 

“My own bed.” The answer was more impatient and aggressive than he meant it to be, he put it down to the Whyren’s still fresh in his system. Barefoot, he padded to the bedroom door but another question made him stop.

 

 _“Why?”_ She asked with tired bewilderment. Needless to say, he turned around confused. She was questioning him leaving the bed?

 

“What do you mean WHY?!” She was awake by now; grudgingly so but awake. It seemed he wanted an argument. If he wanted one, she’d give it to him.

 

 _“It’s a perfectly reasonable question, Brendol.”_ She was calm now but she couldn’t promise she’d stay that way. _“You got into the bed where you normally strive to be, I didn’t ask you to leave and yet you throw back the covers after a few minutes as if I have offended you! I’m asking you why!”_

**“Why?!”** He repeated with a dangerous snarl from the bedroom door, still in just his underwear. Out of sheer spite for a reason she was still ignorant to, he pulled up the light of the almost dark bedroom and almost felt a surge of power at the vampric hiss when her sensitive eyes were not given time to adjust to the sudden burst of light. **“I cannot stay in that bed with you and not think about HIM, that’s why! Touching you! Kissing you! It’s disgusting!”**

_“Him?”_ The abrupt and rude introduction of light was beginning to give her a small headache though it was nothing to do with the weakness in her voice that echoed disorientation at his strange accusation. _“Who’s touching me? Who’s kissing me? What in the name of the ancient Republic are you talking about, Brendol?!”_

**“ISABELLE’S FATHER!!”** He bawled with little warning and it was accompanied by a savage snort one would associate with an irritated bull. Kendra was ashamed to admit that she’d flinched by the sheer volume and intensity when it was aimed directly at her and only then did it become clear to her. The unforeseen bellows probably would have alerted the staff in normal circumstances but they would know better than to interrupt. If anyone was roused, it would be Cole. She could assume he would be useless by then. If Brendol decided to hurt her, she would take matters into her own hands.

 

 _“Isabelle’s father.”_ She repeated with incredulous mockery, a small smirk tugging at the side of her usually (at least where Brendol was concerned) disapproving mouth. She could torture him, she could mercilessly tear him down like she had done when Starkiller became a distant memory. Was he worth the effort? Of course. For a little while anyway. _“And what does Isabelle’s father have to do with you, hmm?”_

**“WHO IS HE??!!”** The question was spat as though it were poison being expulsed from his system. He didn’t put it down to the Whyren’s circulating in him and clouding his judgement; he assumed he was justified in this endeavour. He paced like a caged beast now and in the new, improved light of the room, she could see it though any time he addressed her, he’d stop and glower at the bed. **“I WANT A NAME, KENDRA!! NOW!!”**

_“Why?”_ The question from earlier was repeated but this time with a different meaning. It was asked with an innocent tilt of the head but that was the only thing innocent about it. Kendra watched him as he watched her when his pacing stopped. She goaded him like she had when he returned to the villa a failure. And she would whittle him like she had back then. _“Do you plan on giving him the same fate his daughter had?”_

 

**“IF NEEDS BE!! I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS!! I HAVE PUT UP WITH ENOUGH, KENDRA!!”**

 

 _“If that’s how you feel, Brendol.”_ Kendra began silkily and too casual for her enraged husband’s liking; so much so that his chest started to heave in utter torment and betrayal. How could she be so nonchalant about this?! If Isabelle had survived, she would have been willing to pass her off as his without question or remorse. That evil bitch. Yet, he loved her. _“I will lend you my dagger but if you insist on doing it, I would rather you did it in the bathtub. I quite like my carpet; I don’t want to get blood on it.”_

 

He stared at her though his form hadn’t changed. He still panted heavily with fury and just like after Starkiller, she maddened him further by refusing to be afraid. She should have been.

 

**“You’re lying.”**

_“Am I? Why would I lie?”_

 

**“To save your own skin, you vile bitch!”**

_“Watch your tongue or I will cut it out.”_ The aggressive hiss was one he knew only too well. He was drawing her out. She would get nasty. _“Lying is futile. My father is dead. Cole doesn’t care and you….. Well, why would I have hidden it from you? To spare your feelings? To let you think you had a chance? The fact of it is, Brendol and as much as it destroys me, Isabelle was yours. You already knew. I told you on Naboo that it was not to give you hope. Why would I have told you that if she wasn’t yours? If she wasn’t, I would have said it because **I don’t give a Bantha’s behind how you would have taken it!!”**_

 

So Isabelle was his. She spoke the truth; she had no reason to lie. She’d fled to Naboo to get away from him, in an attempt to sever as much of her relationship with him as she could. She didn’t want Romhain to know where she was because she knew he would drag her back to Arkanis; it was nothing to do with Isabelle, the unborn was a casualty. He calmed significantly and decided he couldn’t look in the direction of the bed.

“But…. Romhain said.-“

 

 _“Oh for goodness sake!”_ The fiery breath dragged his attention to her. Her eyes had narrowed and her smirk had been replaced with a curve of disdain. _“In all the years we’ve been married, Brendol and you have just uttered the three most idiotic words in all those years. **But Romhain Said.** Are you well?! Do you need your head examined?! You listened to him! You let him burrow under your skin!”_

“Cole said he didn’t know….”

 

 _“And why would Cole know?!”_ Her irritated passion grew as Brendol’s gullibility became more and more apparent. _“Cole is as drunk as a cantina fly! Besides, Brendol…”_ The lowering of her tone and the added bitterness put him on edge. _“If there was a way to have an affair on this Godsforsaken planet, don’t you think I would have found it by now? You kept me well isolated, I’ll grant you that.”_

 

“I take it you’ve tried to explore that avenue?” He swallowed and didn’t bother to hide the obvious hurt and treason those visions in the bed had whispered to him. She had tried. She had tried to seek others to keep her company while he was away; company that he would no doubt end up raising the results of under the guise of his own.

 

 _“I have no loyalty to you.”_ She told him boldly, plainly and with as little regard for his feelings as usual. _“You took me as a gift to yourself for making your new rank. I had absolutely no say in what I was being sold into. You took me from someone who loved me and someone I loved in return. And you wonder why I want nothing to do with you.”_

 

“You need to believe me when I say I knew nothing about Lon-“

 

 _“What did you just say?”_ The danger in the previous hiss had intensified and she slowly climbed out of the bed but her eyes never left him as she did. Unblinking, Kendra approached her husband ever so slowly and in those periwinkle eyes there was not only hatred and indignation but unmistakable anguish. The anguish seemed to be winning over with the way her jaw tightened and her chest began an irregular pattern, one he barely knew at the prelude to tears. _“You will **not** mention that name again. You will not defile him with that horrible tongue of yours.”_

_“I doubt my father never mentioned him.”_ The coldness was palpable in the room despite the fire in the hearth as Kendra turned to stalk back to her bed like a lioness returning to her den. _“He was far too much of a factor in the way of you both getting what you wanted.”_

“Kendra…..” An attempt to take her arm was made to try and explain as gently as he could but when he turned her, the agony was instantaneous in his cheek. The glowing red patch left him panting and stunned and immediately her arm was released. Nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, she looked more like an exquisite predator than ever before. Her hand hurt from the strike but it was an easy sacrifice to watch him cradling his own cheek like a scolded child.

_“Tomorrow I am returning to Naboo.”_ She was final and resolute though still aggressive and bold while he tried to recover. _“When you get personal time and wish to see the boys, you will contact Cole. You will visit them at his discretion and where he tells you. I am done with you. You are not to attempt to see me or contact me. If you do, I cannot promise your end will be any different to my father’s. After all, that **is** the promise I made you when you hauled your failure of a carcass back here after Starkiller.”_ A second and successful attempt was made to return to the bed. _“Now get out.”_


	27. Wine For Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Kendra discuss what must be done with Brendol now that Romhain is gone. A very drastic decision is made in response to a visit from his brother in law.

Brendol spent the night in his own room, still stinging with humiliation. The more he thought about it, the more he accepted she had no reason to lie. Even if Isabelle wasn’t his, she would have told him just to watch him crumble. That was an odd sort of comfort and he did recall their conversation on Naboo when she informed him of the pregnancy. It wasn’t to give him hope. If Isabelle wasn’t his, there was no hope. If she was, hope wasn’t to be manufactured to accommodate her.

 

He left before daybreak but did push in Kendra’s door ever so slightly prior to his departure. He could barely make her out and thankfully she didn’t stir, let alone wake. If she had, no doubt there would have been consequences. He couldn’t see her properly to appreciate her until he saw her again. If he saw her again. Judging by the conversation (if it could be called that), she wanted it to end. Then again, she had tried that before and he ignored her wishes. There were no promises he wouldn’t do it again and the threat would be disregarded.

 

He strode through the sleepy dark of the house; turning his head in mild surprise and confusion at the moans coming from the room Cole was occupying for the duration of the visit. Brendol’s immediate thought was the advice Cole had given him on the night the twins were born from his own personal experience. Could he have been so distraught over his (then) fiancé if he was seeking out company from the maid? What the General didn’t know was that particular incident had taken place nearly twenty years previous; Cole had never really recovered from it and so sought solace where he could.

 

The shuttle was boarded and as he looked down, he took stock of the villa. He might never see it again, he might never return there. Aside from Brendol, the Varnetts had no ties to Arkanis. Why should she stay? If Kendra was leaving, she’d go to Naboo and Cole would probably arrange to meet his brother in law on Aargau to see the children so he wouldn’t even be on the same planet as Kendra. Was it cruel? Yes. Did he deserve it? Maybe. With Romhain gone, she was going to sever as many ties as possible with General Brendol Hux.

 

 

“A bit early for wine?”

 

“You can talk.” Kendra replied bitterly and held the glass as if it would slip away from her. She was going to take advantage of the time without the twins to reflect since Cole insisted on leaving them on Aargau in the care of his staff for a day or so. Seated in the armchair by the resident fireplace of her bedroom, she rolled her eyes when the opposite chair was claimed by her brother.

 

“I heard you arguing last night.”

 

“Yes and I could hear what you were doing as well. And arguing is something couples do. We’re not a couple.”

 

“I take it from that you want a dissolution?” Cole (for all he drank) was spritely and sharp; perhaps the exercise with the maid had sobered him somewhat. He watched his sister expectantly and allowed his vision to drift to the dark crimson liquid in her glass. If he could hold onto the boys for an extra few days, he would or even bring her to Aargau where he would keep an eye on her. “You know he won’t do it. Even if it’s just for the legitimacy of Hadrian and Killian.”

 

“He will not use my children as pawns, I won’t allow it.” Anyone else would have recoiled at the snarl but Cole remained unmoved and just sat back in his armchair with a small sigh. “He should have known this was coming. He should have known what would happen if he helped us dispatch Romhain.” It was followed by a hefty mouthful of wine.

 

“Maybe he thought if he did that you’d see him differently? He’ll do anything to fucking please you.”

 

“Except leave the First Order. “

 

“Did you ask him to? Why’d you do that?”

 

“Yes. Well, I gave him an ultimatum. I told him it was me and the children or the First Order and as I knew he would, he chose the Order. I didn’t want him to choose me, I wanted to prove a point and I did. He can say what he wants about being devoted to me and his family; I asked him to leave the First Order and he wouldn't."

 

"It's bred into him, Ken. It's like eating it drinking or breathing. He's a General and his father's a fucking Admiral, they didn't get where they are by wavering loyalty. Have you ever met his father?"

 

"No." The reply was blunt and almost disinterested.

 

"The man's a bastard. You got lucky that his son wasn’t the same way.” The older male should have seen danger with the way his sister leaned forward and surveyed him with borderline aggression and her lip curved with the glass held firmly.

 

“Whose side are you on, Cole?”

 

“I’m on my nephews’ side.”

 

“And what does that mean?! I didn’t get lucky, Cole. I got sold off into a marriage where I was removed from my family and friends. Brendol knows if he ever raised a hand to me that he’d be dead by now. I wasn’t lucky, he was just intelligent.”

 

“I just mean I’m going to do what’s best for them. You and Hux are grown adults, you can look after yourselves. The boys can’t.”

 

“I’m their mother!”

 

“Yeah, well, wine for breakfast doesn’t really suggest all that much responsibility, Ken.” Perhaps Cole’s ‘close to the bone’ approach had worked better on Brendol who just accepted it with a defeated nod (even if it had ended in an explosion between the couple) while Kendra grew more and more indignant. Maybe she was still raw from the ‘argument’.

 

“How dare you?! I’ll cope how I need to! Besides, isn’t that the reason you insisted on keeping the boys for a few days?! For me to **cope?!** ”

 

“I’m just saying; start with the bottle and you’ll end that way.”

 

“Rich coming from you!”

 

“Kendra.” Cole began with a relinquishing sigh, silently accepting he’d probably touched a nerve and ignored his own hypocrisy so decided to try and brush past it. “Look, come to Aargau for a while. Trash father’s office, you’ll feel better. If Hux gets his personal time while you’re there; he won’t be let near you, I promise. Just… Come on, the boys need you clear and focused.”

 

“I’m getting a cat.” It would be nice to have another cat to replace the one that had been murdered by Arkanis.

 

“I don’t know how Nero will feel about that but alright. Fehr is a lawyer on Aargau, he’s a friend. Don’t ask me his full name because I can’t pronounce it. I’ll ask him to get through the channels a little quicker to secure the dissolution.”

 

“The Chiss? Oh Brendol will love that.”

 

“That _would_ be satisfying. Your speciest husband getting served divorce data by a Chiss. I’ll accompany him, I’ll record it.” The thought elicited a chuckle from the eldest sibling and now head of the Varnett family. “Meet with Fehr on Aargau, tell him what you want-“

 

“I don’t want anything from Brendol. I just want to be free.” Kendra interrupted though it was quiet and docile. “The boys will live with me; he will see them when he can without my presence. That’s all I need. I don’t want money, I don’t want possessions-“

 

“What are you going to do if he contests it? He might, it’s best to be prepared.”

 

“Let him contest it. He won’t get anywhere. I have complete faith in whatever representation you deem fit. If the Chiss is capable and willing then we’ll hire him for the proceedings.” She highly doubted Brendol would be cooperative but he couldn’t risk drawing too much attention to himself or the First Order. However, she couldn’t have predicted what he would actually do.

 

 

 

 

 **“General!”** The com from his overly cheerful brother in law interrupted Brendol’s morning command, meaning he needed to excuse himself from the bridge.

 

“What can I do for you, Cole?” He tried not to sound impatient but leaving his Lieutenant in charge wasn’t exactly an ideal situation and if Cole was contacting him some three weeks after Romhain’s death, it wouldn’t be good.

 

**“I’ll be arriving on Finalizer tomorrow; you and I have a few bits and pieces we need to iron out.”**

“Bits and pieces?” Brendol repeated, confused and almost irritable by the prospect of a sudden visit. Finalizer wasn’t accustomed to visitors, especially Cole. “Such as what? Cole, I really don’t have time for-“

 

**“We won’t take up too much of your time, General; not to worry.”**

 

“We? You and Kendra?” The note of hope was so miniscule that Cole almost didn’t hear it.

 

**“No, General. You should know better by now where Kendra is concerned. She doesn’t want to see you. I will be accompanied by another party of an official nature; and no, it’s not an audit or an inspection. We’ll only require a few moments of your time in private and we’ll be out of your hair.”**

Finalizer was its usual hum of regimented activity when the General was given prior notice to Cole’s arrival and if he was truthful, he wasn’t looking forward to the visit. Brendol waited at the landing dock as Cole’s shuttle approached, he was on edge. This visit couldn’t bear good news. Kylo Ren hovered nearby out of curiosity and the ever loyal Captain remained with Hux with her blaster at the ready.

 

Ruffled with dread, Brendol watched as the ship docked and swallowed subtly when the ramp dropped. Cole appeared first; his usual cocky self was vain and self-assured as always but Hux was more worried about the male that appeared behind him. Maybe worry is the wrong word more like offence and indignation that Cole brought a species other than human onto his flagship.

 

In some small flutter of relief, the last lifeform to step off the Varnett shuttle was Nero. It seemed Cole had thought ahead and brought the Force sensitive beast with him as a precaution; an intelligent thing to do with Kylo Ren on board. Nero padded from the shuttle and his ears pricked up when the familiar scent caught his nose. His pace increased and the ringing clipping of his claws on the cold metal from behind Cole and headed straight for Brendol.

 

Cole and the blue skinned Chiss nicknamed Fehr took their time, striding leisurely down the ramp in Nero’s wake. Brendol had decided it would be best not to break his usual demeanour for the duration of Cole’s visit but it had escaped his consideration that he might bring Nero. Nero, the reminder of the family life he had once sort of possessed. With that realization, he stretched out a gloved hand to the animal’s snout, holding him under the jaw, stroking the leathery skin with his thumb and went from there to stroking his head.

 

There was no verbal greeting with the Vornskr, simply physical as his hand roved down the animal’s prominent spine; despite the obvious discomfort radiating from Captain Phasma nearby. Kylo Ren seemed to have disappeared. The animal reacted to his touch in the same way he had always done since the birth of the boys; gratefully and affectionately with a little purr, as though greeting a pack member rather than a master. The message of _“I missed you too”_ seemed to be mutual and entered Brendol’s head through a strange channel.

 

“Impressive!” Cole called across as he and his Chiss companion got nearer, the alarm heightened but the General neither voiced it nor showed it. He remained stoic for the sake of his reputation and present staff though Nero had been a pleasant distraction. “I thought he might like to see you.” He was referring to the Vornskr. Maybe there had been a second purpose to bringing him rather than just Kylo Ren. To soften the General.

 

“It’s wonderful to see him.” Hux confirmed, resuming his staunch demeanour for his own benefit as well; to remind himself to remain strong. Relieved and proud when Nero stayed with him, it seemed he had spent his affection on the animal as Cole neared. The older male was given a nod of acknowledgement rather than a handshake while the Chiss was ignored save for a subtly suspicious eyeing.

 

“General, this is a friend of mine; Fehr Sas’fagar.” Cole went on to introduce the Chiss in his usual cheery disposition (something he’d learned from his father; they’ll trust you if you’re cheerful) as if his brother in law wasn’t put out by having an alien on his ship. “He’s one of the finest lawyers on Aargau, if not the galaxy. Graduated top of his class in the University of Coruscant, he has several fields of practice and one of them is why we’re here; so let’s get to it, shall we?”

 

The Chiss named Fehr had watched Brendol’s face with satisfaction at the faint changes in his features from suspicious to annoyed as his praises were sung. Cole was toying with him and he knew it. It was more that the Varnett was trying to prove that an alien was capable of just as much as a human. Fehr was a classic example. He didn’t greet the General nor did the General greet him. It seemed that had the same level of disdain for each other.

 

At Cole’s suggestion, Brendol turned on his heel and the visiting male’s followed though Nero remained at Hux’s side. That didn’t worry Cole. When it was time to leave; if Nero was stubborn, all he would have to do is say Kendra’s name and the Vornskr would abandon the redhead with little to no hesitation. Cole and Fehr exchanged a look as they kept pace behind the General along the metallic corridors of Finalizer until they reached an office.

 

The inside of the General’s office had a cold sort of feel. Like the corridors; it was metallic with blends of pristine black leather. The two armchairs in front of the metal desk were of black leather (he had brought some of his tastes to the home on Aargau where he kept Kendra) while the one behind it was similar but more upright and straight than an armchair; a chair that would allow him to work in comfort and preserve his posture at the same time.

 

The door whirred shut behind them and Cole and Fehr automatically took an armchair each. Hux surveyed them with borderline apprehension from his own seat with his hands folded and placed neatly on the desk. They sat in silence for a moment, just observing each other and waiting for the other to speak. After a while, it was Brendol who broke the silence with the same question he had asked on the com.

 

“What can I do for you, Cole. Finalizer isn’t accustomed to visitors so I’m going to assume this is important.”

 

“You could say it’s important.” Cole replied with an agreeable nod and his lip stretched into an amicable grin. “It might not be important to the galaxy or the system or even Finalizer but it will affect a number of people. Two in particular.”

 

“Stop speaking in riddles and tell me why you’re here. Are the boys alright?”

 

“The boys are fine but-“

 

“And Kendra?”

 

“Kendra….. Is coping.” Brendol wasn’t given a chance to be worried or inquire further because Cole pressed on. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, General, that my sister is seeking a dissolution to your marriage of … questionable consent.”

 

“Questionable consent?!” Hux repeated as his face whitened and his mouth dried. “I never-!”

 

“Kendra Varnett never consented for her hand to be given in spousal alliance. She has lived under the duress of her late father Romhain Varnett to continue the marriage and to produce heirs. In the wake of his death, Miss Varnett is perfectly and legally entitled to-“

 

“I rather think this is a family matter!” Brendol snapped at Fehr who had spoken for the first time. The Chiss arched an eyebrow and fell silent but Cole was quick to step in.

 

“He’s her lawyer, he’s as entitled to this conversation as much as we are as her legal representation.”

 

“How very like Kendra to hire a subordinate species as her lawyer to get under my skin!” Hux hissed like a child pre-tantrum. Fehr ignored him. Such behaviour came with the legal profession; he rarely dealt with Imperials but if the General was anything to go by, he wasn’t missing much. “This is utterly ridiculous! We have children, for goodness sake!”

 

“You spend the majority of your time here on Finalizer, correct?” Fehr asked and quietly delighted in the little twitch of Hux’s lip when he was addressed by a ‘subordinate species’.

 

“Correct.” Came the grudging answer and again, Fehr relished it.

 

“Then I fail to see how a divorce would affect you all that intensely, General.” Fehr replied and Hux opened his mouth to add to his answer but the Chiss continued. “If your children are your concern, Miss Varnett has very graciously decreed that when your personal time is granted, you are to contact Mr Varnett here.” He gestured briefly to Cole who simply nodded again, no less cheerfully than before. “He will arrange to meet you at a disclosed location where Miss Varnett will not be present. Naturally, with the nature of the separation, you would not be permitted to contact Miss Varnett directly. I personally think that’s quite fair.”

 

“This isn’t about what you think!” It seemed Brendol’s rage was reserved for and taken out on the Chiss whenever he opened his mouth. “This is about my marriage and I downright refuse to allow it to end!” Hux turned to Cole and his attitude shifted. Despite the presence of the blue skinned male, the General couldn’t help the vulnerability that crept into both his face and his voice. _“I need you to speak to her…”_

 

“I’ve tried.” Cole shrugged; which was the truth, he had. “She’s adamant. I’m not my father, I’m not going to manipulate her with fear nor am I going to hold the boys to ransom. They need their mother, more to the point they need her clear and focused but she can’t be that under a bottle of wine for breakfast. So….” Cole nodded to the datapad and the content it displayed that had appeared quietly on the desk. “Get it over with. Find someone else and move on. No one is going to keep the boys from you.”

 

While Cole spoke, Brendol was already scrolling through the contents of the datapad, downcast. Every time he saw her name, his heart sank a little further. A still gloved hand raked through the carefully ordered strands of fire while he scrolled, breezing over it but not really taking anything in due to the terrible frenzy in his mind. He would have been foolish not to expect this but that didn’t lessen the sting when it did actually happen.

 

“I need to think about this.” He murmured, dejected as he placed the datapad down on the desk and refusing to torture himself further with it. “I…. I can’t do this now.” Fehr and Cole exchanged another look as if they expected something of this nature. He’d already voiced his objection and the likelihood of him contesting was high though Fehr was ready for that; armed with the facts.

 

“I wouldn’t take too long to think about it.” Cole warned with a light grimace that wasn’t entirely sincere. “You know what she’s like. We’ll see ourselves out. Nero.” The Vornskr came on the first call and the General was so wrapped up in his own torment that he didn’t even say goodbye to the animal. He didn’t know how long he sat there after Cole and Fehr’s departure in utter devastation. He stared at the datapad but couldn’t bear to turn it on for fear of seeing the contents again. His options were limited; sign or don’t; relinquish his marriage or have it wrenched from him. He couldn’t do either of those things.

 

But what else could he do? Hours dragged past, he ignored a knock at the door from his Lieutenant who intended to inquire if he should have his meal brought up or not and sat in silence. When the thought first occurred to him, he pushed it away immediately. Such a thing was not an option. But when his pained mind dragged it back up again an hour or so later, he examined it. Of course, there were hazards involved but if it helped him win Kendra…. He’d do it. So he set to work typing the desperate com he’d never thought he’d type. In fact, the idea would have repulsed him before.

 

_To whom it may concern,_

_This is not a hoax nor is it a surrender. It is a proposition._

_I, General Brendol Hux II of the First Order, offer my services as an informant. I will release information to you as and when I receive it as discretely as possible for both parties. If such a proposition is favourable to you, please inform me and I will meet with you to discuss the details at your earliest convenience in a secure location._

_I would like to reiterate at this point that this is not a hoax, a surrender or a trap. I am merely desperate. Please help me protect my family._

_B.Hux._


	28. Informant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Brendol Hux meets in secret with General Leia Organa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the penultimate chapter of Unexpected! Winds of Winter from the GOT season 6 finale was on repeat for this and I feel it captures it; have it on in the background when you read if you can!!

The General of the First Order always had an abundance of patience. He found there was no merit to aggression in command and some would disagree. He was always cool and concise when delivering orders. If something went awry, the utmost would be done to fix the blunder and the person responsible would be fairly punished. To send his officers into a frenzy over a small incident was counter-productive. If a mistake was made, to over-react would cause panic and therefore more mistakes would be made. It made no sense to the redhead and so he chose not to part-take. On the up-side; for this reason, his troops were incredibly loyal anyway and so incidents were at a minimum. How terribly disappointed they would be if they realized their dedicated superior intended on providing information to the other side.

 

 

But that patience was within the realms of his own command. Finalizer and Starkiller had essentially been tuned to him, right down to the temperature to mirror the climate of his home on Arkanis. Now though, he was completely out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a cantina; it was certainly long before he married Kendra. But here he was in the darkest corner of the Mos Eisley spaceport cantina on Tatooine; a vile place if ever he darkened the door of one. The table was sticky with Gods knew what, the caverns were thick with smoke and fumes from various respirators and nicitain devices.

 

 

The clientele also left an awful lot to be desired. To be in the same breathing space and rubbing proverbial elbows with species other than humans was enough to turn his stomach but he couldn’t leave just yet. Eyes peeled from beyond his hood, they shifted almost in paranoia. _What if he was spotted?_ And his meeting hadn’t even begun yet, his counterparts were yet to arrive. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should leave. But one thing stopped him, the thing that always stopped him: Her. Hux wasn’t sure how long he sat there and waited; unable to determine if he was relieved to be alone for this length of time or if his nerves grated because of it.

 

 

However, his mind was about to be eased. Disruption was bound to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, it was by the right person.  He couldn’t categorically say what drew his attention to that particular figure; perhaps she knew to search for the most fearful man within the caverns of the Eisley. An older woman who seemed unafraid and unintimidated by the cantina strode openly and confidently, looking for something or someone. He caught her looking in his direction and it seemed to click; he’d never seen her before in person and yet she seemed to know him.

 

 

"General?" The ageing female questioned, peering past the hood and found her suspicions confirmed by the tell-tale strands of amber barely visible under the black material. This was her, the one he’d been waiting for and she was seemingly unaccompanied. Her greying hair rested atop her head in a neat bun while her face appeared simply curious but looked like she could be simultaneously kind and understanding but fierce when called upon.

 

 

"General." The respectful title was returned, however grudgingly. Just because he needed help didn't mean he had to like it. Without invitation, she took the seat opposite him; a signal that she could command respect and take charge without too much effort. “Are you alone?”

 

“I have one or two trustees floating around.” Organa answered, effectively masking the itching eagerness of uncovering that unexpected text com earlier the previous day. “They’re no threat to you if you’re no threat to them, you have my word.” That wasn’t much of a comfort, evidenced by the uneasy shift of the First Order representative but he had initiated this, his discomfort would have to be shelved.

 

 

“That is much appreciated.” The older General found herself growing more and more unable to contain herself.

 

 

“When I received your com yesterday, I thought it to be either a hoax or trap. Needless to say, my mind wasn’t put to rest when you addressed those things directly.” Organa sat back in her chair with her arms folded, he didn’t dare think she’d be manipulative. It was impossible to ignore the worry and woe echoing in the redhead’s face. Finn (who he would know still as FN-2187) had outlined a picture of General Hux and this wasn’t him. Finn had illustrated a genocidal psychopath; incapable of caring for anyone or anything, little regard for life and with no time or concern for anything other than his career. That concept alone was why the last line of the com had stayed with her: _Please help me protect my family._ He had a family. He was willing to betray everything for them. Maybe he did deserve help.

 

 

“I needed to be clear.” Hux answered softly, half focusing on the conversation, half reminding himself why he was there, the very thing that stopped him from getting up and leaving. His reasoning for this meeting, for the com, for the betrayal was all intensely personal. Kendra was private, few knew of her and while he would have liked to keep it that way, the feelings had become too much and now threatened his career. Or rather, his career threatened her. “This matter is exceptionally private. If we are to work in tandem, I would request that it is handled discreetly.”

 

“Of course.” She had expected nothing else, why would he ruin his reputation by allowing someone to think he cared, even loved?  That he had a weakness? The curiosity still resided in her face but the understanding he had guessed had now come to join it, it was soothing if he was truthful, even with himself. “Tell me.” Where did he even begin? Looking across the table to the woman who now had her hands folded on the table and watching him with encouragement, he knew little of her but maybe that would make it easier. Bowing to necessity, Hux sighed and began with an unusual question.

 

 

“Have you ever been in love, General?” Slightly taken aback by the very uncharacteristic question and the tone it was delivered with, Organa blinked in both surprise and pain. It was still raw, losing Han. A body-less funeral had been even harder than saying goodbye to a physical being and here she sat across from the man partially responsible for it.

 

“I have…..” The response was quiet and bewildered, perhaps he had touched a nerve.

 

“Do you have children?”

 

“I have one son.” Again, puzzlement. Maybe Kylo Ren’s true identity and parentage remained a secret within the Order. Whether that was preferential or not was a tormenting thought for another time. He didn’t specifically need to know these things but to appeal to the General, to make her understand, communicating with her emotions was, he felt, key. However, if he had known she had lost both her husband and her son (in different ways), he might have chosen a different approach.

 

 

“I have two.” The little pull of a smile was accidental. How long had it been since he’d seen them? He couldn’t remember. He still had no holos; the closest thing he had to a reminder of his sons was the scan he was grateful he had kept with him. “Twins. They and their mother are everything to me. They’re the reason I asked to meet you here today.” Without voicing it, General Organa urged him to continue. “My wife….” He would find himself pausing a lot throughout the duration of the conversation, purely in a bid to give his case the justice he felt it needed by phrasing it properly. Leia would also notice the little flickers of despair, fondness and apprehension, sometimes only words apart.

 

 

“My wife is of Republican birth. She has ties to some of your members. She is…. I can’t begin to describe her but if a thunderstorm could take human form, that is the closest I can come to describing Kendra.” The next part would probably sound outdated and overly-Imperial but he was sure the General would understand. “She was not quite a gift, more of a bonus, I realize how that sounds.” He added with a small nod at the contortion of Organa’s face. “Her father financed Starkiller Base. Anytime I made a professional visit, I always ended up getting distracted by this dark haired phantom who would leave the room as soon as I entered it.”

 

 

“He noticed and offered her to me, Starkiller’s funding would be a dowry of sorts.” Explaining it to an objective party seemed to put it in some sort of perspective. It reinforced what he was trying to do. He mightn’t be able to leave the Order but he could certainly try and rectify his selfish actions in the past. If it meant doing so through politics, so be it. “She had no say in it. She hated me then and she hates me now. I like to think not as much as she used to.” The female managed to restrain a flinch at that last particularly raw statement that flowed as fact. “For some inexplicable reason and I don’t know why, I don’t think I’ll ever know; I love her. She has taken over everything I used to be. When our sons were born, the medic said she wouldn’t make it through the night. I hadn’t wept in some time but that night, I wept, I begged, I prayed and by some divine miracle, it worked.”

 

 

Leia listened, dumbfounded. Had he not been so enveloped in his own story, he might have noticed it. Laying himself bare wasn’t as difficult as he previously feared and underestimation on her part had crossed his mind but yet, he found himself trusting her with this very delicate information. She hadn’t killed him; she hadn’t purposely drawn attention to him nor had she set her ‘trustees’ upon him.

 

 

“We miscarried recently.” The new information was relayed differently; hesitantly and with a twinge of pain and loss that only furthered Leia’s placid bafflement.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Leia had never known that pain though she knew of some who had. Ben had been her only and that had resulted in a different brand of heartbreak almost exclusive to her and Han.

 

“Thank you. Before it happened, before the pregnancy was discovered at all; Kendra left me. Naturally, I didn’t accept it as well as my decorum would have dictated. I followed her to Naboo as soon as I could, a month or so later and well…. The details of my daughter were unearthed.” Hux breathed through the thoughts of Isabelle and the little he knew of her. Leia didn’t rush the silence; monster or not, war criminal or not, a parent was a parent. And before her sat a very desperate father. “She gave me an ultimatum that night.” The redhead sat forward, eyes lingering on his untouched drink; merely a token he had purchased to be allowed to sit there quietly. “She said I could have my family and her if I left the First Order.” Now it made sense.

 

 

Organa’s understanding air (though tainted slightly with continuous confusion) remained as she watched him sort through what he wanted to say, what he deemed important enough for her to know. Of course, it was difficult to discuss. Had the roles been reversed and Leia found herself in Hux’s position, she had no doubt she would struggle to word things and to be caught up in emotion was only human.

 

 

“I’m going to tell you what I told her: I will do _anything_ to have my family back. You and I both know the Order is dangerous. If even a murmur or suspicion of betrayal is found, they’ll execute me; I cannot bear to think of what they would do to _her…_ _To my boys..._ ” The realization prompted a sudden wave of mild hysteria that he managed to keep confined to a low volume. _“I cannot openly leave them but I can do the next best thing if you will allow me and believe me when I say that I can be more than valuable, I can-!“_

 

 

“General.” The crumbling, bumbling misery was almost too much for Leia to process; she needed to stop it for both their sakes. “General, you’re helping no one like this. Come on, pull yourself together and focus.” A reluctant nod heeded her advice and again, he took his time to regain his composure. However, said composure was fragile; it wouldn’t take much to fracture it again but it nudged at the older General. He did need help, such passion indicated that he deserved it. If not for him, his wife and children were innocent. “We’re going to need a secure com line or something similar.” Brendol’s hopeless gaze lifted from the tired, sticky wood of the table; did that mean what he thought it meant? His chance of redemption was going to be granted?

 

 

“Yes…. Yes, whatever you deem appropriate, I’ll cooperate wholeheartedly with. Everything will be true, everything will be delivered as quickly and as discreetly as possible, I swear it.”

 

“I trust in that much, General.” This wasn’t a hoax nor was it trap. It was a very sad display of desperation by a husband and father masquerading as a callous human being. Maybe he had been, once upon a time but no more. “I’ll have something set up by my finest technicians and you’ll be contacted immediately to notify you. You might have little belief in the Force, General, dark side or light but it’s powerful. My advice to you would be to keep your mind clear in the presence of Kylo Ren or Snoke. I’m sure you’re good enough at that already. We’ll be in touch.” As Organa left, it was a bittersweet feeling. Success and treachery. He didn’t dare examine if it felt good or not.

 

 

The next two months passed and slowly, the General began to grow more comfortable in his new role as traitor. Initially, he had been on edge and paranoia ebbed at him whenever Ren stared for too long or when a sudden meeting with the Supreme Leader was demanded. Thankfully, nothing surfaced and he began settling again. The information was passed quickly and effectively with little incident and Hux actually found something he hadn’t found in the Order for a long time, if at all. Appreciation. When things began to return to normal (save for this extra role), he resumed his clawing desperation for personal time. A text com he had completely forgotten about came in conjunction with the proposed dates of his personal time, as if someone had tweaked it for him.

 

C Varnett: _The boys are turning one in a month’s time, giving you plenty of notice to secure personal time. They will be on Naboo with me. Cannot say if Ken will be in attendance. Would advise you'd have made headway on divorce decision. Hope you can make it. C._

 


	29. Only Love Can Hurt Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendol travels to Aargau for Killian and Hadrian's first birthday where he finds justification for his actions with the Resistance. Kendra reminisces on the first time she actually spoke to Brendol and tries to decipher the cryptic advice her mother gave her on her wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the final chapter of Unexpected! I hope you enjoyed it, do feel free to leave your feedback and abuse in the comments section! Precious Cargo is next!

What did one bring to a first birthday party? Especially when one knew nothing about children and said children didn’t want for anything. Perhaps it wasn’t a party per say, the boys were too young to have friends. It was more of a ritual marking that neither child would remember. _Just bring yourself, we have everything else._ Cole’s text com had left him flustered, how could he turn up to his own son’s birthday empty handed? He wracked his brains; they had the latest of toys though Nero was their favourite, there was no shortage of money and what would the twins do with it anyhow? They had all the latest holovids though they only seemed to watch one of them on repeat.

 

 

He resolved to order clothes, two of each design and leave it at that; they would always need clothes. They weren’t yet mature enough to develop a sense of style and Kendra tended to dress them anyway. Kendra…. Would she miss her son’s first birthday on account of him being there? He doubted it. Kendra was strong willed enough to ignore him though he doubted he would go unpunished if he tried to interact with her, however innocently. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He had successfully been acting as a double agent with the Resistance for almost three months now and in a way he had not yet decided, he planned to tell her. If she saw he had turned his back on the Order or even tried to aid their enemy, she might reconsider.

 

 

It pierced at Brendol when he saw the confident if rickety steps both children took under Cole’s careful guidance, steps they’d been taking for some time. He’d missed these monumental moments and he never expected it to hurt but he hadn’t expected love to hurt either. They grew without him; unperturbed by his absence, as if he was a mere addition to their lives from time to time and not a crucial part as they were to him. In fact, he wasn’t even entirely sure they recognized him. Yes, they were pleased to see him in their own way but they greeted him no differently to how they greeted anyone else. Or so Cole hesitantly confirmed for him. It only reinforced his own actions for him. If he helped overturn the Order; he might escape prosecution, he might be allowed become a permanent fixture in his son’s lives.

 

 

To hold them in his arms was the final decision; he would work strenuously with the Resistance, be as valuable as he could and willingly report to another General. The difference in them was eye-watering. A year old and he had only seen them a handful of times since the week they were born, the week Kendra almost hadn’t survived. He couldn’t let that continue, he _needed_ them and in time, they might need him too. Happily strained under the weight of a son in each arm, he reluctantly released Hadrian to Cole while Killian perched on his own lap to share a slice cake, a custom for birthdays that Hux never really observed nor had his family. Cole, however, valued his nephew’s exposure to pleasant and positive things, why wouldn’t birthday cake be part of that? Hadrian and Killian were not born as insurance policies (even if their father’s early intentions had been just that), they were not destined to be unfeeling servants of the Empire or just there for the sake of the reputations of disinterested parents. These children were loved, doted on.

 

 

“Where is the refresher?” Too much birthday punch was, of course, going to have an effect on the bladder and while it was a common question in someone else’s home, it was also an excuse to express an ulterior motive: Find Kendra.

 

 

“Second door on the right at the top of the corridor.” Cole answered almost absentmindedly, prizing his role of uncle of the birthday boys with both propped in his lap. Brendol simply nodded and left. He did make a stop in the refresher but with his bladder voided and his hands washed, he went about his other mission: Her. She _had_ to be here somewhere. Large and all as the house on Arkanis was, Hux couldn’t fathom why his single brother in law needed a home this vast. Every corridor and hallway led to another, doors lined each one to rooms that Cole had probably never even set foot in. Why? What was the point? Slowly, he made his way through, hoping she wouldn’t be too far from her children but with every door he opened and explored, the further he got from Cole and the boys and the likelihood of getting lost increased.

 

 

 

 

 _“There will come a time when you will have a decision to make and not only for yourself. Bide your time, my darling.”_ It felt significant but she didn’t understand. It kept her awake, tormented her. What decision? What did it mean?

 

 

Kendra had grudgingly agreed to relinquish the children for the evening of their birthday. She’d had them for the morning, the afternoon and would have them again at bedtime but Cole convinced her it looked better; _reasonable and amicable_ to make that allowance. It would work in her favour where the divorce was concerned so she conceded, anything to make that bloody thing move faster though she doubted it was her hindering it. The fragile female still mourned as could only be expected. She tended to prefer her own company as had become a habit long before her sons were born. The boys, naturally, were the exception to her solitude and Cole at times. She’d shut herself in a room where she could sprawl in comfort and peace to wage war on her own mind while she tried to pick through that cryptic message. Glass of wine in hand, she sat in the basking glow of the hearth in a trance, just staring as if the licking of the inferno would have some sort of answer.

 

 

Kendra cast her mind back. She’d seen him at the villa on Aargau several times. She ignored the glances, ignored the attempts to make eye contact, left a room when he entered it when he had no business in there other than to be close to her. Why shouldn’t she? He represented everything she deemed to be inhuman. The Imperial approach to alien governance was little more than regulated slavery, the Stormtrooper programme was consensual kidnapping and brainwashing and of course, the icing on the cake; the curtailed freedom of everyone in the galaxy. Diplomacy would be shut down and the innocents (human and non-human) would be at the mercy of ruthless dictator. She couldn’t have known that the man who stalked her envisioned himself as that dictator. Nor could she have known his plans for her when he was.

 

 

She’d never forget the first time her husband spoke to her on the eve of their wedding. She would always remember how staunch and how formal he was. He seemed to have relaxed since but tell that to the heartbroken female who still pined for her missing lover.

 

 

_The dancing glow of the flames in the hearth seemed to be the only light source in the library. It was hypnotic, watching how they moved in rhythm with each other, almost fighting over the log they suckled on. The heat had the young female drowsy, the page of her book hadn’t moved in some time while she drifted in and out of her musings._

_The same time the next night, she’d be in a very uncomfortable and unnerving position but she wasn’t going to think about that if she could help it. Kendra should have noticed the shift in the environment, specifically the old, fat, ginger cat that had slept peacefully on her lap up until now. Millicent was awake and edgy._

_Deciding to retire, Kendra gathered her cat securely up into her arms and got to her feet with a tired groan. Big day tomorrow…. Only when the soon to be bride walked around the sofa to leave did she notice the door to the library was blocked by an imposing, redheaded figure._

_Clutching the feline close to her, she held her ground and waited for him to either leave or approach. To her surprise, he did the latter but left a metre or so_ between _them. For a moment, he stood silent and if the light was better, she would have seen his eyes firmly fixated on her face, trying to take in every detail._

_“Miss Varnett.” She didn’t respond. Merely stared him down, unimpressed and unmoved. He took an extra few steps towards her to see her better and only then did she realize how piercing that stare truly was. “Before we marry tomorrow, I would like to say how humbled I am that you accep-“_

_“I didn’t accept anything.” Kendra replied cuttingly and watched as his pallid features tightened. He seemed to glow; between his hair and his skin, he was almost luminous. She was pale but he was unhealthily so. He spent too much time under florescent lighting._

_“Be under no illusions, I was told I was marrying you. Not asked. So try not to flatter yourself too much by thinking there is any sliver of your personality or physique that I would find appealing enough to willingly enter into a marriage with you.” If he was put out by her response he didn’t show it, he was determined to continue if anything._

_“Nevertheless, I hope that you-“ She swiped his sentence again._

_“You see her?” Kendra had closed whatever distance remained between them with a confident stride and held up the cat so her dusty, orange coat was almost into his face._

_“I…. Yes….?” He coughed slightly and turned his face away to prevent himself inhaling hairs or heaven forbid get any on his clothes. How could he not see it?_

_“She is the only ginger I’ll be waking up beside.” Kendra remarked sharply as the cat was tucked back securely against her chest._

_“There will be no animals in my home.” Hux was somewhat offended that she assumed the cat was invited. He was caught off guard when the smaller female in front of him emitted a sweet but sinister giggle._

_“Well then, **General**.” His new rank was spat like poison as her eyes locked with unnerving vanity with his. “You’re marrying the wrong woman.” With that, Kendra turned on her heel to skirt around him in the direction of her bedroom. The amicable call of:_

_“Goodnight, Miss Varnett. I look forward to tomorrow.” saw her tempted to reply with an obscene gesture of the finger that was unfitting for a lady so she just about restrained herself._

 

 

Poor Milly didn’t last on Arkanis (of course, she’d gotten her way in the end). Kendra tried to assure herself that the cat was old and it wasn’t the horrible climate of her horrible husband’s horrible home planet that had killed her. After that, with her last connection to home gone, there had been so many times she’d been tempted to just create an exit for herself and never look back. She knew from the second that trapping ring was put on her finger (which she’d removed at the first opportunity), that she would be miserable. Miserable, bored and underappreciated. Not to mention dreadfully lonely.

 

 

Not only that, she knew that misery would manifest itself into hatred and bitterness for the one that kept her confined. It would change her and it would become almost permanent if nothing was done. Would it have been easier to literally give herself over to the enemy? To try to be a good wife, make Brendol feel like she was supposed to? Should she have abandoned everything she was taught as a child (and it was her Republican mother who raised her) for the sake of survival and maybe some stab at happiness, however empty and ill-gotten when it meant renouncing every value she’d been given? If he wouldn’t do it, why should she?

 

 

Then there was the Hosnian System…. Some of the finest beings, human and alien, she had ever met had been on Hosnian Prime. And now it (and them) was little more than a collection of rocks floating in the vacant space where it had once been. He showed little guilt or remorse at that fact. How was she to know when she was a small child, exploring the capital that she would later be chained to the one who would destroy it? Should she have felt guilty? There was nothing she could have done to stop him; she didn’t have the same control over him as she did after Starkiller was destroyed.

 

 

Kendra would always remember the days following the destruction of Starkiller Base though. She had already made arrangements to leave for Naboo where everything was open to her; painting, writing, screwing her father over in the Senate. She couldn’t do any of those things on Arkanis, the whole planet was smothering. Naturally, she was not only outraged but devastated when he turned up. So much so that she had sex with him on the dinner table and went about tearing him down time after time like her mother had told her to do. He then fell helplessly at her feet for her to do with him as she pleased, just like she was promised he would.

 

 

Things had changed when she became a mother. She had something to anchor and distract herself with from her dire marital situation. Well, at least when Brendol wasn’t around to remind her of it. That said, she did appreciate the help he gave her after the boys were born. He did make her feel special; he made her feel beautiful and appreciated. If that wasn’t conflict, nothing would be. She did appreciate the support after the birth though his clawing, desperate attempts to play happy families, not so much. He loved the boys; there was no question there even if he didn’t have a clue what to do with them.

 

 

She heard the door opening but didn’t react to it, it was simply Cole telling her that her husband had gone to bed and that she could take the boys.

 

 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” She murmured in a dream-like state without disrupting her gaze before he could even speak. She heard the door close and assumed he returned to the boys but the growing footsteps in the carpet made her search for another conclusion. Before it was reached, the last possible guess sat in the armchair adjacent to hers; much to her very obvious displeasure. “I was under the impression that you were given very strict instructions to stay away from me.” Brendol managed to retain his nerve under Kendra’s unimpressed, scornful glare; he knew he’d be met with this resistance. Needless to say, it gave her some vile sort of pleasure to see him squirm. “What do you want, Brendol?” He didn’t answer immediately; he struggled like he always did when he became undone by her presence.

 

 

“I wanted to see you, maybe try and talk you out of this divorce notion.” He flinched at the scoff that was muffled by the wine glass; the volume of it made little difference, he still had to swallow it.

 

 

 _“You have some nerve.”_ The purr laced with acid forced him look up; he was in for another session of degradation of the most delicious form and from his favourite person to receive it from. That didn’t mean it didn’t strike him in the chest like a dagger. _“I allowed you here for the boys’ birthday, you are here at my goodwill, nothing else. And how do you repay me? Forcing your presence on me when I **specified** by my legal representation that you were not to contact me! That includes stalking, Brendol!”_

“I’m not agreeing to any terms of divorce, Kendra.” He responded meekly, dropping his gaze again which blinded him to her storming from her chair suddenly though the bark of indignation was more than clear.

 

 

 _“Typical!”_ She spat, prowling like a predator caged and confined as though the movement would ease her. _“As usual! Nothing applies to you! I can’t even have peace and privacy without you coming to sabotage it!”_

“Kendra….” The redhead was as mild as before, almost fearful of retaliation and even more so when she whipped around to scowl at him. If he didn’t tell her now, the opportunity may not come again. If he thought she wouldn’t force his hand to hurry the separation, he didn’t know her. She was willing to do what was absolutely necessary and her husband knew it. “The ultimatum you gave me on Naboo…. I want to change my answer.”

 

 

 _“Oh you want to **change** it?” _The scathing haul of fiery breath matched that wicked stare and if he were a lesser man, he might have bowed to the intimidation but this was far too important. His marriage was at stake, his children, his sanity. _“And what divine intervention happened to inspire such a desire?!”_

“I have already taken steps to do what you asked.” Brendol murmured reverently, they were in the thick of Kendra’s temper now. One of two things would happen: She would either calm down or get worse. “You asked me to leave the First Order, I can’t do that openly. If I did, they would come looking for us. You, me, the children.” She opened her mouth to start another furious barrage but Hux continued calmly which, amazingly, cut her off. “I have started passing secrets to the Resistance. I contacted General Organa the day Cole came to Finalizer, met with her a day or so later and….” The General (if he even deserved that title anymore) daren’t look up but still, she was silent and listening. “I’m a traitor. I betrayed the Order, my breeding, my father’s expectations, everything…. And I did it for you.”

 

 

For Kendra to be quiet in the midst of a confrontation (which she made it her business to conduct when she and Brendol were in the same room) was rare and truthfully? Unnerving. As if the tirade hadn’t happened, he chanced a glance upwards and instead of her furious pacing, he found it had reduced to a placid saunter. Said saunter guided her back to her chair where she seated herself with an even temper but her gaze shifted to the side as though deep in contemplation rather than her husband where one would expect it to be.

 

 

“So….” She drained what was left of the crimson liquid and set the crystal glass aside before leaning forward to finally take her husband in. The scrutiny was almost too intense to bear but Brendol reminded himself of the purpose for his betrayal and the vast majority of it was sitting before him. “Let me try and fathom this…. You left the First Order and are now working for the Resistance. Do I have that correct?”

 

 

 “Well, no….” Hesitant to correct her, Brendol shifted uncomfortably while he tried to think of a way to phrase it so that she would be both understanding and sympathetic. “I am still serving as General of the First Order but any information I get; I pass to the Resistance. Any ambushes, attempts at colonization, attacks on settlements…. They intervene in time and lives are spared.”

 

 

“And _why_ would you do that? Considering it’s you who hands down those orders in the first place?” The retort was steely but so far, she seemed to be taking it well.

 

 

“I don’t.” He replied, hoping this would last. “I pass on the commands to the squadron leaders from the Supreme Leader.” The roll of her eyes at the mention of his ‘master’ was oddly comforting. Since his role of informant started; he started to feel underappreciated by the Order and humanized by the Resistance. He had never noticed the difference; growing up in a regimented routine had stuck and he had carried it with him into his adult life, driven by tradition to do his duty. But the meeting in the cantina with General Organa alone reminded him that he was in fact human. He had emotions and feelings and needs that the Order didn’t cater for. She had sat with him, her arch enemy, and comforted him, assured him it would be alright. It didn’t surprise him that it wasn’t just about passing secrets to secure a deal and protect an agreement. He had actually found himself becoming more fascinated by their policies, their ethics…. No wonder they had the hearts of the galaxy. Starkiller was a lot to do with that.

 

 

“I did it for you.” He continued with a small note of desperation. “I did it for the boys. You said if I left the First Order that you would stay with me…. That I would have my family back….” Brendol swallowed at the promise that was now (in his mind) so close to being fulfilled. “I can’t openly leave the Order. Snoke would send Kylo Ren on the warpath and we would have no escape. They wouldn’t stop at me, they’d come for you and our sons….” He noticed the tightening in her striking features but she said nothing. “But I did the next best thing…. I want that to be enough. I’m working with them to collapse the Order from the inside and in return, we’ll be safe. My family will be safe.” In all the things he expected Kendra to do, what she did wasn’t one of them. When she got up and started towards him, he flinched when her shadow engulfed his. The last time she was that close, she physically harmed him.

 

 

The physicality came from nowhere, a gesture most unexpected. It took him a second to realize he was sharing a breath with her, that she had crawled into his lap and secured herself tight against him. Urgently, Brendol’s lips moved furiously in retaliation to a kiss Kendra had initiated. He had expected her to take it well but not that well. This was what he had fought for, what he’d betrayed his life’s work for: Her. And now, he finally had her. Longing, relief, joy; it was all there in that kiss, even more so when hands started to wonder and they were chest to chest like the lewd encounters before the twins were born. But Brendol didn’t remember being this close to her hurting. Even when that embrace continued, he faltered and only when she drew back to watch his face did he realize why.

 

 

 _“And what did you think was going to happen when the Order found their mole?”_ She challenged in a savage whisper, watching him with something akin to a sick pleasure. The redhead started to pant, panic beginning to set in though his mind couldn’t seem to calculate why yet. _“I despise the First Order but they’re not stupid. They would figure out eventually where the tip offs were coming from. And **then** my children would be in danger.”_ With ease and satisfaction, Kendra swung off her husband’s lap and resumed that careless saunter, leaving the dagger buried nearly to the hilt; where the blade met the handle deep in Brendol’s upper abdomen.

 

 

 _"Shhh shhh shhh......"_ Kendra sighed, serenely mocking to lure him into false comfort as the blade edged in a little more and Brendol gasped through the pain. _"Don't move, it'll only hurt more. Just.... Stay as you are."_ He stared up at her, or as much as his body would allow his head to adjust to look at the dark haired female standing over his shoulder. _"I warned you."_ She reminded him with a soft jeering tone. _"The night you came back from Starkiller, I warned you I would be your downfall. I could have had you arrested. I could have brought the entire might of the Resistance down on you. But you were mine. And even now, you scrambling piece of First Order dirt, you're still mine. Mine to destroy as you destroyed me."_

 

 

 _"The night we made our deal....."_ She breathed softly in his ear from the side of the chair; the blood trickling weakly from the blocked wound. _"I told you I wanted to raise my children in a loving home. Ours was not a loving home. Not as long as you were in it."_ The handle was toyed with, twisted slightly but sharply to the right, provoking an agonizing moan from the General. _"Did you think I was going to protect you from your own stupid mistake? It's you or my sons. And I'm certainly not choosing you_." She relished the sight a little more, determined to remember this for the rest of her life. On the last word, the dagger was seized and torn from the flesh covering his liver, freeing the barrier to the blood. A dizzy attempt to stand (for a befuddled reason) was fruitless, but he somehow managed to save himself with the arm of the chair. Whatever way he moved to try and block the now pouring injury, he fell from the arm and down onto the floor with a noticeable **thump**. Circling like a shark, glowering down at him with her wedding present at her side, it all made sense now.

 

 

 _"You should have let me die when they were born."_ The female informed him lightly, padding lightly on the blood soaked carpet as Brendol started to feel faint. _“You should have prayed for me to be taken rather than spared and none of this would be happening. But I made you a promise, Brendol. And I keep my promises.”_ She chose then to pour another glass of wine, electing to sit against the arm of her chair and let nature take its course like she had with her father. He tried to crawl across the carpet; for what, his clouded mind couldn’t seem to process. It was a vain, useless venture if anything; overseen and savoured by the mother of his children.

 

 

The blade had injured his liver though she would have been satisfied with a kidney; any major organ in that area where high volumes of blood passed through to be cleaned. It was perfect. He would die quickly but she still got the immeasurable pleasure of watching him bleed out. She remembered her exact words to him after she had decimated his self-control on the dinner table, after she marked her territory. _“Your downfall won't be Snoke; it won't be the Resistance, even if the Republic were still intact, it wouldn't be them either. I will be your undoing, Brendol."_ She’d never forget it. True, she never imagined there would be children involved but she was nothing if not stubborn.

 

 

 _“There will come a time when you will have a decision to make and not only for yourself. Bide your time, my darling.”_ She made the decision to end her husband’s hold over her and she did it mostly for her sons’ sakes; even if they hadn’t come into being, she convinced herself she did it for the galaxy. She’d waited so long to do it but she bided her time... Kendra was woken from her epiphanic daze by a pathetic, half-hearted gurgling; a struggle to say something. The dark haired female dropped into a crouch in front of him with little squeamishness for the crimson soaking the bottom of her dress and waited with a tilted head for him to either die or force something out.

 

 

 _“Do you love me, Brendol?”_ The silky taunt was delivered as if it might save him while he lifted a stained hand to grapple and hold her, anywhere would do; a desperate shot to confirm it for her. _“That’s why you did this silly thing, isn’t it? You thought I’d love you if you left your beloved Order. You thought we’d be happy and in love, surrounded by our children and living out the rest of our days together as a married couple should. Well, Brendol. Your days have come to an end but mine are just beginning. I want you to know that when you take your last breaths which you seem to be doing now. You wanted forever with me and you were willing to play with fire to get it.”_ Callously, Kendra rose to her feet and started away, Brendol’s hand slipping weakly and dragging off her as she went. _“And look where it got you.”_

Everything was starting to lose colour, his tunic and the carpet beneath him squelched obscenely whenever he bid himself to move, however subtly. The smell of metal seeping from his own body was strong enough to make him retch but even in his state, he knew he wasn’t capable of it. Being surrounded by metal on Finalizer and Starkiller, he had never experienced a stannic odour like this one. His heart still beat, pumping the blood around though the thoughtless organ didn’t recognize a breach further down and the blood not making it back from its cleaning station. With that, he got weaker and weaker. It appeared his pain receptors had shut down; there was no longer agony, only an awful chill despite the fire roaring only metres from him. He took notice of all these things to distract him from the terrible betrayal of love. Or was it betrayal if she never loved him; hated him, in fact? After all, wasn’t she just keeping her word? Extracting revenge for herself? And perhaps Lon? It wasn’t a comfort either way.

 

 

Still she watched, unperturbed by the bloody handprint on her shoe. He didn’t have long. The tell-tale choking, the shaking, the undeniable depths he’d paled to. Not to mention the vast majority of his life force spilled onto the rug and hauled a short distance across the room like a morbid snail trail. His eyelids began to feel weighty though to close them would mean admitting defeat. He resisted the temptation for as long as he could, opting to hold Kendra’s expectant stare instead until his exhaustion called him to rest. The laboured breathes became shallower and shallower while his head dipped and rested off the carpet, taking the strain off his neck. The light of the room had been cut off by the strands of soaked material though he couldn’t feel them on his forehead, he felt nothing anymore. The comforting artificial darkness provided by sensory deprivation encouraged him gently to close his eyes, if only to rest.

 

 

 _“Say hello to my father for me, Brendol.”_ She was off in the distance somewhere, ensuring that anguish pricked him before he went. _“And wherever it is you go, **Isabelle. Won’t. Be. There.** ” _Whether he heard her or not, she would never know. And to think, all he had to do was sign and he would still be there. Finally free, there was a contentment and a gratification she had never really known before. It had been born of violence and death but sometimes, that was the price of freedom. _“Contact the Resistance.”_ She told the petrified maid who had just timidly stuck her head around the door, roused by the thump of Brendol’s body hitting the floor. Those bright blue eyes fell on the redhead one more time, cruel and vicious with biting indifference in her tone. _“Inform them General Hux is dead.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... That happened. I know there were some who wanted this to happen and some who didn't but this was the ending I had planned on from day one. I changed my mind numerous times but I needed to be true to the ending I always envisioned! Thank you all so much for the subscriptions, bookmarks, kudos and comments; it spurred me on to keep writing! Again, feel free to leave feedback and abuse and do have a look at some of the other stories! Precious Cargo (which is another Hux story) is next! Sorry Thilbofilth!! Loves ya! xxx

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pristine Condition.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143874) by [Harrishawksuperiour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harrishawksuperiour/pseuds/Harrishawksuperiour)




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